


its all fun and games

by elliott (amywaited)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gwen Stacy is a good bro, Hurt/Comfort, I DONT KNOW HOW TO TAG FUCK OFF, JUST KISS ALREADY, M/M, Other, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is reckless, Physical Contact, Pining, Pining Peter, Protective Gwen, SHIELD, Slow Burn, So is gwen, Spare Parts, Suicide, Temporary Character Death, Touch Starved Wade, because its wade, coulson is over protective, i guess slow burn?, lmao spares, mj is my spirit animal, original characters but its not a big deal, peter falls in love really quickly, peter is a shield agent, peter whump, pining wade, shield agent, theyre just spare shield agents, touchy feely, wade kills himself (as he is wont to do)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-02 12:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14545185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amywaited/pseuds/elliott
Summary: peter didnt mean to.it was just a stupid dare, a bet. and now it's all gone topsy turvy.(now he has a job offer at shield, and he's not really sure what to do with it)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> plot bunny plot bunny plot bunny plot bunny
> 
> (peter doesnt become spidey in this au)
> 
> tags to be added as the story proceeds.

Peter didn’t mean to.

Seriously, it was just a stupid bet between him, Ned, and Harry. Who could successfully hack into what is probably one of the most well protected servers in the cosmos, the fastest.

They had five ‘lives’. Ned kept getting stuck on the sixth firewall. Harry had gotten closer, but had gotten kicked off with a very serious pre recorded video message from Actual Director Fury. Gwen and MJ thought it was the actual stupidest bet ever (but that hadn’t stopped MJ from putting twenty dollars on Peter winning.)

And Peter did win! It took him two days and twenty three hours to finally bypass all the security, and create the fake identity. But now he had access to all of SHIELD’s secure files. Gwen said it just meant SHIELD needed to update their security, if Peter could get in that easily. MJ said he should see if SHIELD had files on any of them.

So, here they all were, crowded around Peter’s laptop in the computer lab at school.

“Go on, then,” Harry says, “Search for Peter Parker.”   


Peter grimaces, “Search you guys first,” he says, already typing ‘Michelle Jones’ into the search bar.

“Why me?” MJ groans. “I doubt they’ll have anything, anyway.”   


Peter nods. “No, it’s just general data. Your name, age, date of birth. That sort of thing.”

“Do me next,” Ned says, reaching over to tap the mouse pad.

Peter swats his hand away. “Give me a chance, then.” He types ‘Ned Leeds’ in, clicking on the first profile. It is the same, age, name, address.

Gwen’s file is the same, too. Harry’s is slightly different, with links to files on Oscorp and Norman Osborn. Harry’s threat level is also different. His is a level two, whereas Gwen, MJ, and Ned had all been level zero.

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not that they think Harry is a bigger threat than me,” MJ says.

“I guess they’re doing it based on what you have access to, maybe. They probably think Harry could use all of those big things Norman’s working on to take over the world,” Gwen says. “It hasn’t occurred to them that what some people have in fire power, we make up for in brain power.”

“Do you, then, Peter,” Ned says.

“Alright, alright,” Peter says, flexing his fingers and backspacing Harry’s name from the search bar. He types in ‘Peter Parker’ and clicks enter.

There are loads more files on him than there were on the others. Some are about him, and some are linked to files on Black Widow and the Winter Soldier. Which is weird.

“Why is there files on Black Widow?” Gwen asks, frowning.

“And the Winter Soldier,” Harry says.

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugs. “Genuinely no idea. Are we looking at this, or what?”

“Yes, we ar-” Ned says, before he gets interrupted by seven men all dressed in black barging into the computer lab.

“What the fuck?” MJ snaps as she’s yanked to her feet and cuffed by the men.

Gwen wriggles a little as they cuff her too, but doesn’t argue. “I knew SHIELD needed better security.”   


Harry and Ned are cuffed too. Peter is forced to his knees in front of his laptop, watching as the men pick it up gingerly, and then proceed to wipe everything on it before ripping the hard drive and destroying it, both hard drive and actual laptop. There’s one standing behind him with a gun trained to his head

“What is going on?” Principal Morita demands, looking kind of red and shaky, stepping into the computer lab. His eyes widen.

The man who isn’t currently holding either Peter’s friends, or Peter’s laptop, steps forward and holds out a hand for the Principal to shake. “I’m SHIELD Agent Coulson, sir. Our security picked up an anomaly in our databanks and traced it to here. Parker and his friends were hacking our secure servers.”   


“They were what?” Morita says, shaking Coulson’s hand. “Is it true, Parker?”

Peter bows his head. “It was- Yes.It’s true. It was just a game.”   


“It also proves that SHIELD needs to update their security,” Gwen mutters. The man holding her tightens his grip around her wrists till she grimaces.

“Can you let my students go, now?” Morita asks, glancing at Gwen’s pained face.

“Oh, no, by all means just keep holding me. Break my wrist,” MJ says. “Not like it hurts or anything.”

Coulson studies her for a minute, probably wondering how she hasn’t even reacted if her wrist is hurting that much. Then, “Agent Mitch, relax. You too, Ward.”

The agent holding MJ visibly relaxes. The man holding the gun to Peter’s head also relaxes, but doesn’t put the gun away. 

“I’ll contact the Director. I’ll have to take these five with me for questioning,” Coulson explains. “If they’re proven innocent, they should be back in school tomorrow.”

Morita nods quickly, stepping aside to let Mitch lead MJ out, followed by Gwen, Harry, then Ned. Ward nudges Peter along with the barrel of his gun tapping Peter’s back. Coulson tags his arm as they pass, and must say something to him because Ward actually does put the gun away.

The other students stare as they all get frogmarched out. At least, they stare until MJ starts laughing. Harry joins in, which prompts Gwen and Ned, and finally Peter. 

Really, the whole situation is quite hilarious. 

 

*

 

“Peter Parker,” the receptionist calls, as MJ sits down on the other side of the wall. He wasn’t expecting SHIELD to be so.. Normal. But there’s receptionists, and people doing paperwork and answering the phone. There are also people hurrying around with their noses in paper files, or swiping through holograms as they walk along. 

MJ, Gwen, Ned, and Harry have already been questioned, and they all look exhausted. Which makes Peter’s mother hen instincts flare up until he’s all jittery. Gwen notices and sends him a tired, but accomplished looking, grin as he follows the agent who brought him in.

Inside, it’s kind of dark. The walls look padded, and the only thing in there is a metal table and three metal chairs. Coulson and Director Nick Fury are sitting in the two on the far side of the table.

The agent shoves Peter into the free chair, which earns him a reproachful glare from Coulson. Peter just slumps in the seat. He vaguely registers the door opening and hissing shut and then Coulson says his name.

“Mr Parker?”

Peter looks up. He feels exhausted suddenly, and he’s realised that this is one of the SHIELD interrogation rooms (which makes him feel like an international terrorist, or something).

“Are you arresting us?” He asks.

Coulson shakes his head. “No. I assume you know Director Fury?”

Peter nods.

“Good. We just wanted to know why you hacked our servers, and how you hacked our servers,” Coulson says.

Peter shrugs. “It was a bet. Harry, Ned and I. Who could hack it faster. You know, it was a bit of fun. We weren’t actually going to use the info for anything. All we did was search ourselves.”

“And you didn’t save any of the information?” asks Coulson.

“You destroyed my hard drive,” Peter scoffs. “I only have what I have remembered.”   


“How much do you remember?”

“All of it,” Peter mutters. 

“All of it? You remember how you got in, too?” Coulson checks.

“Yep. I’m not an idiot.”

“Quite the polar opposite,” Coulson agrees. “Did either of your friends manage to hack successfully?”

“No. Ned got stuck on one of the firewalls, and Harry got kicked off with a warning and a pre recorded video from you. I was the only one who got in. You know, Gwen’s right when she said you needed to upgrade your security. If I, a lowly high schooler, managed to get in from the school computer lab with a laptop from the Dark Ages, imagine what a super villian with super updated tech and non existant morals could do.”

“You’re right, which is why we’ve offered Gwen, and MJ a job at SHIELD once they leave school,” Coulson says.

“You what?”

“There’s a space for you, too, if you want it,” Coulson says. “We’d send you and Gwen to the Science Academy. MJ to Operations. Then you and Gwen to Operations too, if you want to become field agents as opposed to just techies.”   


Peter feels his jaw dropping open. “But we- we hacked you secure data banks!”

“Exactly why there’s a job open for you. After the fall of SHIELD, we’re low on all types of agents. After Romanoff’s data dump, even more so. Multiple agents’ cover’s got blown, resulting in their deaths. Of course, with the Hydra infiltration, we lost agents to Hydra. We could do with more field agents, tech support, anything. I think MJ would be perfectly suited to undercover ops, and short missions,” he turns to Fury and says, “I think Agent May would love to be her SO.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Fury says, the first thing he’s said since Peter walked in.

“Of course not,” Coulson says. “You aren’t in any trouble, Peter. We’re actually all pretty impressed. We’ve seen your school results, and a couple of my agents would love to meet you.”

“We’re not in trouble?” Peter perks up.

“You’re not in trouble. As I already said, we’d love to hire you. If anything, we’d like all of you to help us code a new set of firewalls for our online files.”

“All of us?”

“Maybe not Harry,” Coulson amends. “It’ll be a bit harder to trust him, what with his affiliation with Oscorp. If some of the information on our secure servers fell into the wrong hands, you could end the world.”

“I I don’t know what to say,” Peter says. And then grimaces, because what will he tell everyone?

“How about we start with some questions? Is there anything else you want to know?”

“Uh, yeah. I have a couple of questions,” Peter says. He probably sounds really rude right now, but he can’t really bring himself to care. “Why was that guy Ward holding a gun at me?”

“Because he doesn’t trust easy,” Coulson says.

“Okay. Why aren’t you arresting us?”

“Because we think your friends’ gifts, and yours, will be useful to us if you decide you want to work with us.”   


Peter frowns. “Who are the agents who want to meet us? Who’s Agent May?”

Coulson smiles, “They’re on my team. Two scientists, one field agent. If you want to work here, we can introduce you.”

“I’m seventeen. We all are. We won’t be able to do anything till eighteen,” Peter says, narrowing his eyes.

“You can meet someone,” Coulson says. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. Why were there so many more files about me? And why were there Black Widow and Winter Soldier files linked?”

Coulson and Fury exchange glances. “We’ll explain at a later date,” Coulson says eventually. 

Peter studies them both for a minute before nodding. “Fine. Ask me again about working here once I’m not in high school anymore.”   


“Got it. You can leave now, if you want. There’ll be a car outside ready to take you wherever. If we need you, we’ll find you,” Coulson says. “Don’t hack us again, alright, Peter?”

“No promises,” Peter snarks, sliding out of the seat and heading for the door. The electric lock hasn’t clicked open yet, but all he has to do is glance at it and he knows which wire to snap to unlock it manually.

“That’s what we like to hear,” Coulson says. It sounds like he’s laughing. “Keep us on our toes. Here, let me ope-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Peter’s stuck out a hand and tugged a wire free. The door swings open and Peter turns back around before he walks out. “I guess you need to update all your security.”   


Then he turns on his heel and walks straight into the waiting arms of MJ, who’s grinning.

“That was brilliant,” she gushes, pushing Peter back to hang onto his forearms and stare into his eyes. “Fucking incredible.”   


“What do you mean?” Peter asks.

“The part where you broke the lock, silly,” Gwen says. “Then said ‘guess you need to update all your security.’”

“You were watching?”

“Uh, duh,” Ned holds up his phone. There’s a live recording from inside the interrogation room. “Honestly, their security cameras are super easy to get into.”

Peter grins. And then giggles. And then Gwen starts laughing, and so do the others, and not for the first time that day do they all look like a bunch of creepy hacker masterminds.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peter is now twenty two, in his final year at the sci-tech shield academy.

**_*_ **

**_Five Years Later_ **

**_*_ **

 

“Agent Parker,” Someone calls out, knocking on his dorm door.

Peter looks up from the pile of books and holograms spread out around him. “It’s open!”

Agent Coulson enters, eyes glancing around before landing on Peter on the floor. “Good evening. How goes the studying?”

“Final year exams suck,” Peter says. 

Phil chuckles. “You have three months left, and then you’ll be able to go on field ops without your SO.”   


“Yay,” Peter deadpans, “Freedom. Is it normal to get this worried about ops?”

“It is if it’s your first alone. But don’t worry about it. Are you busy right now?” Coulson asks.

Peter scans over the articles he has open. “Uhh.. Nothing I can’t put off for a day or two? Why? Am I needed?”

“Agent Jones requires tech support,” Coulson says. “There’s a computer waiting for you in the office building, if you can head there now.”   


Peter nods, and jumps up. “Sure. What’s her mission?”

Coulson holds out a comm device. “You’ll get briefed on your way.”

“That urgent, huh?” Peter says, taking the comm unit and following Coulson out, making sure to lock the door behind him. Not that it would do anything. He was living in a place where they taught a class on lock picking. But it made him feel slightly safer. 

“We’re on code amber,” Coulson says. “But if we aren’t careful, it’ll be red.”

Peter glances over at Coulson and then starts jogging to the office sector. “Where’s Fitz?”

“Fitz is on an undercover. He was drafted this morning, and didn’t get a chance to tell you. He was sent to the Sandbox at lunchtime. I’ll get Simmons to stand in as your SO until Fitz is back.”

“But Simmons is Gwen’s SO,” Peter says.

“And she likes you well enough too. You and Stacy can probably work together, if need be,” Coulson says.

Peter nods, pushing open the offices door. “Is Agent May with MJ?”

“Yes, but they’ve been separated. Sit down, Agent Parker. Get to work. I’ll alert Agent Simmons that she’s your temporary SO. She’ll probably come to find you soon enough.”   


“Okay,” Peter says, double tapping the screen of one of the computers to turn it on. It responds instantly, scanning his fingerprint and opening to his personal page.

“There should be a file on there with more info in the mission, and a link to contact Jones with. It’ll connect to the comm,” Coulson says, “But not well. I’d switch it for one of our headsets.”   


Peter nods, opening the file pack on the screen and then removing the comm. He balances it on the corner of his desk, and then pulls one of the Bluetooth headsets on. “Is that it?” He asks, opening the first document.

Coulson nods. “That’s all. If you need assistance, send for Simmons, or Stacy. And Parker? Lives might depend on you this time. They need your help. Keep your head on straight."   


“Got it,” Peter says. Then he opens up the comm link and says, “Agent Jones?”

“ _ Parker? Oh, thank God. Have you been bri-” _ _   
_

_ “ _ Yep. I have all the info. What’s the sich?” Peter asks, instantly distracted by MJ. He doesn’t notice Coulson leaving. 

“ _ Our cover’s blown, _ ” MJ explains. “ _ Agent May and I were separated. There should be blueprints of the building. I need a way out, and I need you to reboot May’s comms. We need to be in contact right now _ .”

She’s whispering, so Peter says, “Any way you can get your phone out, and scan it around? You shouldn’t need to turn it on, just move it around slowly. Up and down, too.”   


“ _ Uh- Yeah, I can _ ,” MJ says.

“Okay. I’m sending a scan app to it. I’ll get heat signatures, more accurate readings, everything,” Peter says. “I can get you and your team out of there.”

“ _ Great _ ,” MJ murmurs. 

Peter layers the infra-red scan over the building blueprints. “Okay, three hostiles. Heading your way. They all have a gun, two Glock 17’s - lame - and one rifle. Why is their sniper inside?”

“ _ Told you, our cover is blown _ ,” MJ hisses. “ _ I can hear them. I can take them out _ .”

“Okay. You’re clear, its just those three.”

There’s a sharp exhale of breath, and then a whoosh of air. Peter quickly hacks into the security cams and watches the grainy image of MJ somersaulting over the oil bins she had been hiding behind, shooting the nearest guy in the head and then landing with a foot on the second guys’ chest. The sniper freezes when she turns her gun on him. 

Then, the guy she’s standing on grabs her ankle and pushes. MJ falls forward, but manages to turn it into a roll and rolls forward, colliding with the sniper and pushing him down. She shoots another bullet and hits the muscle trying to run away. He falls with a thud, and then she’s left with the sniper.

“Huh,” Peter mutters. “One day, I’ll be able to do that.”   


MJ doesn’t reply, but she does breath a laugh. Then she punches the sniper hard enough to knock him out cold for twenty four hours.

“ _ You’ll get there _ ,” she says, tucking her gun into the holster on her waist. “ _ Maybe if you didn’t spend all day at a computer. Any more incoming? _ ”

“Uh, one. Unarmed. Might be a teammate, I’m not sure. The camera quality is shit,” Peter says. “And for the record, I don’t send all day sitting on my ass. I revise for my exams, and I train, and  I practise hacking. I’ll be a proper field agent one day, just you watch.”

“ _ Yeah, yeah. Have you got our comms up yet? _ ” MJ asks.

“That’s impossible, sorry. May’s is fried. It’s garbage, I can’t salvage it. There’s one signal on our wavelength, which I think is a comm. I can connect to that one?”

“ _ Do you know who’s it is? _ ”

“There’s no way of knowing until we’re online,” Peter says, “I’ll connect now.”

“ _ Okay, _ ” MJ says. “ _ Any more hostiles? _ ”

“Nope. That guy, the unarmed one, is nearly on you though.

MJ glances up on the tape, and then looks around, before smiling. “ _ It’s okay, he’s a good one. Comms? _ ”

“Comms,” Peter confirms. “Say hello, Agent…?”

“ _ Smikker _ ,” the agent says.

“Agent Parker, ma’am,” Peter says. “Coulson asked me to help get you and the team out.”   


“ _ It’s okay, Smikky, he’s good _ ,” MJ says.  _ “He’s got blueprints of the building and heat detectors to alert us to any incoming hostiles. Have you got May? _ ”

“ _ No, we were separated. Where’s her comm _ ?”

“Offline,” Peter says. “Fried. Destroyed. Smikker, you haven’t moved in a while, and there’s one hostile on your seven.”

“ _ Yeah _ ,” Smikker says. “ _ My leg is pinned under rubble. These guys had explosives, that’s what separated us. _ ”

“That explains why only your comm and Jones’ comm is working right now, then,” Peter mutters, partly to himself. “Is your leg bleeding? Broken bone?”

“ _ Sprained ankle, I think. There might be bloo _ -” she’s interrupted by a gunshot. Then she says, “ _ Give me a sec _ .”   


“Don’t strain your leg,” Peter says quickly.

There’s three shots, all in quick succession. Then a dull thud of a throwing knife landing in someone’s shoulder, a gurgled scream, and a thump as a body drops to the floor.

“ _ I’m back _ ,” Smikker says.  _ “I’m still stuck. Send in a rescue team in ten minutes if we aren’t out by then. _ ”   


“You got it,” Peter says. “MJ, ten o'clock.”

“ _ Huh, what? _ ” MJ says. Peter watches as she takes out three of the guys without even looking. The other guy with her engages in hand to hand with the other two, slashing short knives at one another. 

Peter presses the intercom button on the headset and says. “Coulson? Send a rescue in ten. Smikker’s orders. They can’t find Agent May, and Smikker is stuck under rubble. Jones and Ficenna are together, but only one comm working. I’ve got Jones and Smikker on the line.”

“Rescue team is being deployed,” Coulson says. “Any fatal injuries?”

“Skimmer’s ankle is sprained, but that’s only what we can tell from grainy camera images and her own examination. I’ll let you know if anything else goes down.”

There’s a click as Coulson disconnects, and then Peter’s linked back into MJ’s frequency.

“Coulson’s deployed a rescue team,” Peter says. “I’ve located Smikker. Third floor, fourth door on the right. It looks mostly collapsed, so hopefully that’ll keep the bad guys away. Jones, you’re on the second floor. There’s a ladder ten feet away, if you want to head up.”

“ _ Free of hostiles? _ ” MJ checks.

“For now,” Peter says.

“ _ Okay, Ficenna, let’s go _ ,” MJ says, heading in direction of the ladder. “ _ Smikker, we’re on our way. _ ”   


“Yeah, hang in there, Smikker,” Peter says. “Hey, I can scan your vitals, if you want.”

“ _ Sounds like a good idea _ ,” Smikker says. “And when were you gonna tell me you had Ficenna, Jones?”

“ _ Sorry, Smikks _ ,” MJ says. 

Peter frowns at his screen. He swipes all the other windows into smaller squares, so he can pull up the vitals readings bigger. “Uh, Smikker? I wouldn’t try moving if I were you.”   


“ _ Why? What’s going on? _ ” Smikker asks.

“There’s a wedge of pipe, or something, jammed in your femoral artery. The pipe is the only thing stopping you bleeding out right now.”

“ _ Shit _ ,” MJ curses. “ _ We can’t move you like that. _ ”

“Let me contact Coulson,” Peter says. “Hey- MJ, you’re nearing a heat sig. It’s not moving either. It’s probably May. Fill her in while I check with Coulson.”   


“ _Got it_ ,” MJ says.

Peter switches over to the intercom setting again. “Coulson, Smikker can’t be moved. They’ll need med evac. There’s pipe, or something, cutting into her femoral artery. Moving it will kill her, its the only thing stopping her bleeding out. I think they’ve found May now, though, and I don’t have any evidence of approaching hostiles.”   


“Okay, Agent Parker. I’ll alert the rescue team and send out medical. I’m sending Agent Simmons and Agent Stacy to you now. They’ll be able to help you reboot all the comm systems,” Coulson says. “And Peter? You’re doing well.”   


Thank you, sir,” Peter says, grinning to himself. Then he clicks back over to the comm frequency. “Coulson’s sending med evac with the rescue team. Stacy and Simmons are also coming to help me reboot the comms, so hopefully we’ll have you all online soon. There are no incoming hostiles, and MJ is really close to you, Skimmer.”   


“ _ Great _ ,” Skimmer says. 

“ _ Just hold on, okay? _ ” MJ says. “ _ You’ve gotta stay awake for us to get you out of here. _ ”

The door to the computer offices hisses open and Simmons jogs in, sliding into a chair and tapping a computer awake. “What’s going on, Peter?” Jemma asks, fitting a headset on. “I’ll piggy back on your connection.”   


“I’ll send you the files,” Peter says. “Guys, Stacy and Simmons are here now, so we should have May online soon.” “Hi, Pete,” Gwen whispers, taking a seat opposite and logging onto her laptop. “I’ll piggy back too.”

“Okay, I’ve sent you both the files. Coulson has a rescue team and med evac on their way now,” Peter says. “Skimmer is stuck, something cutting open her femoral artery. We don’t have intel on where May is yet, but I think I’m getting a signal from her. Ficenna doesn’t have a working comm, but he’s with MJ right now.”

“Got it,” Simmons says. “We’ll have you out of there in no time,” she promises. “Just sit tight. There’s no threat incoming right now, just focus on finding one another.”   


Peter blows all the air in his lungs out and Gwen reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. 

MJ and Skimmer have both gone silent, but Peter can see MJ reach the collapsed part of the building.

“ _ Found Skimmer _ ,” she reports. “ _ I’m not going to move you ‘til med gets here. Finecca, stay here. I’ll find May. _ ”

Peter rattles off where he thinks Agent May is, noting the way Simmons knuckles go white on the desktop. “They’ll find her, Simmons,” he whispers, sort of to her and sort of to all of them.

Jemma turns on a soft smile on him, and then trains her eyes back on the pixelated camera footage. They all watch MJ wander around, trying to locate May. Peter can almost feel Simmons’ sigh of relief when MJ helps Agent May out into the corridor.

She’s walking funny on her left leg, but other than that seems fine, so MJ leads her back to Finecca and Skimmer.

 

*

 

Gwen, Peter, Jemma, and Coulson are waiting in the Hanger for the medical jet to return. 

The rescue team piles out first, follow by the head doctor, checking things off on a clipboard.

“Agent Coulson, Simmons, Parker, and Stacy,” the doctor greets. He waves the clipboard. “I’ll have the medical records posted on the server tonight.”   


“Good. Thank you, doctor,” Coulson says, turning to the rescue team leader. “Kelly, I expect the debrief paperwork on my desk in three days.”   


“Yes, sir,” Agent Kelly nods to him, and salutes (which makes Coulson grimace and blush).

“MJ!” Peter exclaims as soon as MJ disembarks. She looks dizzy and exhausted and bruised, by otherwise unhurt.

She manages to withstand one of Peter’s hugs before he helps her onto the medical gurney. Gwen comes to stand next to them. “Glad you’re back, Em,” Gwen says, grinning.

“Me too,” MJ mutters. And then coughs, which makes Peter frown at her. “Dust inhalation. Means I get to eat ice cream for a week.”

“No, it doesn’t, Agent Jones,” May says, waving off her own medical gurney when it’s offered. “We can make a compromise for three days. You did good on this mission. We’ll push back debrief till tomorrow, give everyone a chance to rest up. Get some sleep, Jones.”   


“Yes, Ma’am,” MJ says. “You too.”   


May smiles at her, nods once, before turning around to talk to Coulson and Simmons.

“Where’s Fitz?” MJ asks.

“Oh, he’s on undercover,” Peter says. “Simmons’ is my stand in till he gets back.”   


“Awesome!” Gwen exclaims. “We’ll be able to revise together.”   


“Have you done any of that?” MJ says.

“You mean when we weren’t saving your ass?” Peter grins. “Yeah. I think I might actually pass my exams this time.”   


“Well, we’ll find out soon, won’t we?” Gwen says. 

Peter groans. “We will. I think Coulson is giving us a two day break. Something about how that’s very emotionally taxing for an Agent-in-Training. I don’t know. It just means we’re all off call for two days, unless the world is properly ending.”   


“That means more days revising,” MJ says. “I’ll probably have to head back to Operations.”   


“Well, if you can, come visit Sci-tech, okay? We’ll head down to the Boiler Room, or something,” Gwen says. “We’ll come to Operations, too. If it’s allowed.”   


“I’m sure Coulson will make an exception,” Peter says.

“Hope so,” MJ says. “Two days without you two. That’s practically torture.”   


“No need to sound so happy about it,” Gwen teases, grinning.

 

*

 

“I think your dorms are a lot nicer than ours,” Peter muses, spinning in a circle in MJ’s dorm room.

“Are they?” MJ asks, frowning up at the ceiling. The left hand corner is going sort of brown from water mold. “I have upstairs neighbors who apparently don’t know how to fix a sink.”

Gwen chuckles. “Our dorms are a lot smaller than this.”   


“And we’ve only been here twice. It’s the novelty,” Peter explains. “Makes it feel newer, and cooler, and awesome-er.”   


“You know, I’ve never heard someone use the word awesome-er before I met you,” MJ says, sitting up.

“Really? Well, that’s a shame,” Peter says.

“Are you hungry?” Gwen asks. “We should make food, then revise.”   


“Good plan,” MJ says. “Grilled cheese?”

“Do you even know how to make grilled cheese?” Peter asks.

“I may not seem it, Peter, but I am a fully functioning adult,” MJ sniffs.

“Only on days that don’t end with ‘Y’,” Peter retorts.

Gwen giggles. “We should meet up with Ned and Harry soon.”   


“We should,” Peter agrees quickly. “Feels like ages since we’ve seen them.”   


“That’s cause it has been. Video chat isn’t the same. I mean, I can’t blame them for not wanting to join SHIELD. SHIELD is messy and scary. But it’s nice to see your friends every day,” MJ says.

“Yeah,” Peter says, nudging Gwen with his shoulder. “So, grilled cheese?”

Gwen smiles and stands up to start rooting around in MJ’s kitchen cupboards, looking for a frying pan. MJ stands too, digging the bread and cheese and butter out. Peter reaches up to grab plates, before flopping down on MJ’s bed with a tired, happy grin on his face.

 

*

 

“Gwen!” Peter yells, hammering on her dorm door. “Gwen!”   


“Christ, what, Peter?” Gwen snaps, yanking the door open.

“Look, I’m really sorry I woke you up,” he starts, sparing a glance at her Minnie Mouse pyjamas. “But look,” he shoves a notebook under her nose. “I think I just figured out the cure for cancer.”   


“I think you need to go to sleep,” Gwen says, taking the notebook and glaring at him. “Come on, then. Inside.”   


Peter walks in past her, and sprawls on her bed. “Read it over. Check it.”   


Gwen blinks blearily, reaching for her glasses and putting them on before snatching up the notebook and reading (and then re-reading) the notes on it.

“What do you think?” Peter asks after five minutes.

“Hush, I’m reading,” says Gwen, holding her palm up.

Peter mimes zipping his lips shut.

After seven more minutes, Gwen looks up at him and frowns. “I’m too tired for this.”   


“Gwen, please. I might have just worked out how to save seven point six million people a year. This doesn’t wait for your sleep schedule.”   


“I’m too tired to accurately check this, Peter,” she says, slowly folding the notebook shut and handing it back. “We have mock tests tomorrow, so we’ll ask Fitz-Simmons if we can experiment on Monday, okay?”

Peter puts the notebook on her coffee table and sighs. “Fine.”   


“Now, come on,” Gwen says, climbing back into bed. “You’re in here now, might as well make yourself useful.” She holds the comforter up, so Peter can climb in too.

He does, after stripping his shirt (Gwen hisses in sympathy and prods at one of the bruises on his torso. “Don’t,” he tells her, “It’s just training. We’re doing self defence now, and apparently that’s an excuse for people to beat the shit out of me.” “Don’t worry,” she says, “One day soon you’ll be crazy hot and buff and kicking everyone’s asses.”)

“Night, Gwen,” Peter murmurs, curling into a ball and trying to squash the nostalgia feelings that came whenever he slept in the same bed as Gwen, MJ, Harry, or Ned. He felt all happy and jittery, what Ned called his ‘sleepover feelings’ because he’d get them every time one or all of them stayed over.

“Night, Mr Cure for Cancer,” Gwen whispers back and Peter falls asleep smiling.

 

*

 

He wakes up to Gwen’s alarm, which is ‘Lollipop’ by Mika. Gwen doesn’t wake up for it, mostly because she’s already awake and dancing around her dorm.

When she catches his eyes blinking open, she reaches out and grabs his hand, pulling him out of the warmth and into the cold. Thankfully, the sun is up too, warming the wooden floors up the slightest bit. It doesn’t stop Peter from sliding on them in his (Gwen’s) fluffy socks, though, and slipping onto the floor.

Gwen bursts into laughter, proper shoulder shaking, tummy aching giggles. Which makes Peter laugh too, until they’re both laughing hysterically on her dorm room floor to ‘Lollipop’ by Mika. 

“Do you know what?” Gwen says, leaning over to balance her cheek on Peter’s shoulder.

“What?” Peter asks.

“We’re a lot like Jemma and Leo,” Gwen says, “There’s a lot of similarities there.”   


Peter hums. “Yeah. I guess we are.”   


‘Lollipop’ by Mika fades out, and then it starts again from the beginning.

“We should probably turn that off before everyone starts reporting us to Coulson,” Peter says, gesturing to Gwen’s phone.

“Good point,” Gwen says. “We can listen to it once more, though.”   


Peter grins and laughs and nods, and they listen to it again.

 

*

 

“Come on,” he says after approximately the seventh time they’ve listened to the song. “Coulson will want us for a debrief after yesterday.”   


Gwen groans. “I guess we should get up.”   


“I don’t guess, I know,” Peter says, standing up and grabbing Gwen’s hand. “We’ll text Harry and Ned and MJ and see if they can meet up for coffee next week.”   


“Good plan,” Gwen says, standing up and walking over to rifle through the chest of drawers. She picks out a grey skirt, and a white button up decorated with black birds. Peter dutifully closes his eyes as she changes, and then once she’s done, throws her a navy SHIELD hoodie.

“It’s like school uniform,” she remarks, holding up the sweatshirt and tracing a finger over the SHIELD emblem.

Peter chuckles and tugs a plain white shirt on and black jeans. He puts his own SHIELD hoodie on over it. “It is a bit, I guess.”   


“I don’t guess,” Gwen says, parrotting his words from earlier, “I know.” She tugs her sweater on and rolls the sleeves up before grabbing her phone and her keys. “You want food here or in the cafeteria?”

Peter shrugs. “Cafeteria? I kind of want to find Simmons and ask her about using the labs on Monday.”   


“Oh, right!” Gwen exclaims, picking up his notebook from the night before and chucking it at him. “She’ll probably let us use her lab. If it actually works, we might even get promoted to our own labs.”   


Peter grins, snatching the notebook out of the air and then checking his phone. “That sounds awesome. Hey, you know if we go out of here at the same time, everyone will think we were together, right?”

Gwen shrugs. “Do you care about that?”

Peter shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter how many people think they know. We know the truth,” Gwen says. “And since when have you cared about what people think?”

Peter grins and shrugs. “Would it be overkill to go out holding hands?”

“Maybe a little,” she says. “But we could do it for an hour.”   


“The whole day?”

Gwen grimaces. “Twenty four hours holding your hand? Yeah, come back later,” she says.

Peter glares at her. “My poor heart. Thinking you don’t want me.”

Gwen just giggles and takes his hand, before pulling him out of the dorm. “Come on. We’ll find Jemma, and then we can ask her about the labs. And then you can text MJ and everyone and then we can revise for the exams.”   


“As long as we don’t listen to that song again,” Peter says, trailing obediently behind her.

 

*

 

Gwen drags him around half the Academy before actually deciding where she wants to go. But Peter’s okay with it because she keeps up a running commentary the entire time (point discreetly at people and saying “He’s cheating on Agent Mitch- asshole.” And “Ooh, look, Agent Alison’s been baking again.)   


They make a detour to pick up some of the chocolate orange brownies Agent Alison had made, and then Gwen’s pulling him away again. There are people whispering behind them, but Gwen doesn’t pay them any attention. Peter realises they haven’t let go of each others hands, so he squeezes Gwen’s fingers and grins.

“Simmons?” Gwen asks, knocking on the door to Jemma’s personal lab. “Are you available?”

“Always,” Simmons says, opening the door. “What can I help you with?”

“Me and Peter were just wondering if we could use one of the labs on Monday,” Gwen says.

“Oh, you hardly need to ask!” Simmons smiles. “Of course you can. What for?”

Gwen pulls the notebook from Peter’s grip. “He had a brainwave last night and thought he found the cure for cancer,” she explains, flicking to the right page. “I looked it over and it looks legit so we were going to test it.”   


Jemma gently takes the notebook and scans it. Her eyebrows progressively raise higher on her face.

“Is that a bad facial expression or a good one?” Peter asks after five or so minutes of silence.

Simmons looks up from the notebook, “It’s a good one. I didn’t know you were interested in bio, Peter.” Peter shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, not really. But sometimes I have brain waves, you know?”

“As we all do,” Jemma says. “Do you mind if I test this with you? We can do it now, unless you have somewhere else to be.”   


“I have another self defence class in an hour,” Peter says.

Gwen reaches over and pats his abs, “Not that you’ll need it.”   


Peter blushes. “Muscle mass doesn’t make you a better fighter.”

“Good point,” Jemma smiles again. “I think Fitz will be back soon, Peter. Three days, tops.”

“Oh, awesome,” Peter says. “What was his mission for?”

“Classified. Don’t go looking for it,” Simmons says.

“I would never!” Peter gasps.

Gwen giggles and pokes him. “You’re a terrible liar.”   


“I need to get all the practise I can, then. I’ll never be an undercover agent if I can’t lie,” Peter says.

Jemma folds the page in his notebook over and hands it back. Gwen takes it and passes it to Peter. “You can work on your lying later. For now, let’s concentrate on this?”

 

*

 

The experiments go wrong, ending in minor explosions and a potential outbreak of zombies. But they manage to contain it in time. Peter darts out for his self defence class.

As he walks down the corridors to the west wing, where all the gyms are, people catch his eye and look away and giggle. He picks up on one muttering to a friend “Do you really think he and Stacy are a thing?”

Then he has to bite back a laugh of his own and push open the double doors to the training rooms.

There are five people there, the instructor (an Agent Morris) and four other baby agents that Peter doesn’t recognise. 

“Parker, you’re late,” Morris announces.

Peter checks his watch and grins over at Morris. “Actually, I’m not, but if it makes you feel better, I can go wait outside.”   


Morris sighs and glares at him, and then gestures for them all to semi circle around him. Peter joins the crowd quickly and Morris starts explaining. “Today, we’re going through basic fight sequences and trying to pick out what could be done better. This is your last class of the semester, so you should have picked up enough over the years. Don’t be predictable. Partner up, get a mat, and wait for my call to start.”   


Peter partners with a girl who looks about two years older than him. She introduces herself as Missy Kallenback, runs a hand through her brown hair and smiles at him.

“Can I ask you something?” She whispers.

“Sure,” Peter says, eyes following Agent Morris.

“Are you and Gwen Stacy together?”

“Uh, what?” Peter asks, jolting back to himself.

“Are you and-”   


“No, I heard what you said. We’re, uh, not together, no.”   


Missy’s grin widens. “Really? Are you looking for someone?”

Peter wrinkles his nose. “Not really, no.”   


Her face falls and she takes a step back. She opens her mouth to say something, but then Morris says they should start the fight, so she settles for punching him extra hard instead.

 

*

 

He wins. 

Missy seems to take that personally, though, because after Peter has levelled her flat on her back, she stalks off. Morris calls after her and it reminds Peter, eerily, of high school. 

“The hell was that about, Parker?” Morris demands, turning on him. 

Peter spreads his hands guiltily. “I have no idea, sir. Sorry.”

Morris sighs. “Fuckin’ baby agents,” Peter hears him mutter. “Letting their emotions rule.” Then, louder, he says, “Whatever, Parker. Switch partners and go again.”

 

*

 

“Gweeeen,” Peter moans, rolling around on her bed. 

Gwen pokes him with her toe. “Shove over, Heffalump. What’s up?”

“You ever heard of Missy Kallenback?” Peter asks. He rolls over and up till he can cross his legs. Gwen sits next to him gracefully and pulls her knees up to her chin. 

“I’ve heard of her, sure. Why?”

Peter grimaces. “I think she likes me. Like, like likes me.”

Gwen bursts into peals of laughter. “What are you, five?”

“Oh, shove off,” Peter grumbles. “She thought we were together.”

“I think half the Academy thought that, Pete. For people who pick apart people’s tells and emotions for a living, it’s surprising that so many people thought that,” Gwen says. “What did you say?”

“What do you mean what did I say?”

“What did you say when she told you she like liked you?” Gwen asks. 

“Oh! Well, at first, she was like ‘Are you and that girl Gwen together?’ and I was like ‘No’ and she was like ‘Well, do you want to be with someone?’ and I was like ‘Um’ and she said ‘Are you looking for someone?’ and I said ‘No’ and then she punched me.”

“She  _ what _ ?!”

“Self defence, Gwen, self defence class,” Peter says hurriedly. “Then I beat her, and then she ran off.”

“Wow, you really do know how to woo a girl, don’t you?” Gwen says. 

“Stop laughing, you asshole.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive fucked around with the stuff a bit. according to the fandom wiki, you have to have a degree to get into the sci-tech shield academy. but you know, gwen and peter hacked into shield. thats degree enough. 
> 
> harry and ned arent in this one because harry is having to concentrate on oscorp, and ned just wants to play video games. he doesnt want to BE in them.
> 
> anyway, comment what you thought! eeh!
> 
> next chapter up in 1-2 weeks ish. hopefully.
> 
> its like, twenty seven degrees celsius here in england and i am DYING. thats 80 fahrenheit. ITS SO HOT I HATE IT. 
> 
> anyway, if youre in england and experiencing a heat wave, i hope ur okay. drink lots of water and dont stay in the sun too long. if youre not in england, then i hope ur okay too. you should drink lots of water as well, and get out the sun if youve been out in it for a while.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets assigned a mission. If he can even get to the briefing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOO  
> YEAH  
> ENJOY

“Peter!” Fitz calls, knocking on his dorm door. 

“Fitz!” Peter exclaims, answering with a big grin on his face. “You’re back!”

There’s a large bruise covering the left side of his face, but other than that and the slight limp, Fitz seems unharmed and he smiles back. “Hey, Parker.”

“Simmons and Coulson said you were on a undercover? How did it go? Or is that classified?” Peter asks, sort of babbling, intent on telling Fitz everything he missed at base. 

“Classified,” Fitz says. “But it went alright.”

“Oh, good,” Peter says. “Guess what Gwen and I did? Well, mostly me, and Simmons helped, but we almost found the cure for cancer, only after several surprise explosions, it ended up being a cure for the common cold. Oh, and also, I almost got asked out by a girl but she punched me. And everyone is talking about how me and Gwen might be a thing, but I want you to know that it’s not true and it’s sort of a joke.”

“Take a breath, Christ,” Fitz says, grinning. 

Peter takes an exaggerated, big breath in. “Sorry.”

“I came here because Coulson wanted to see you. Think he has an assignment, if you want it.”   


Peter frowns. “What? But he know I have my end of year finals,” He says, “I need to revise.”   


“I don’t think he would have asked if it wasn’t important,” Fitz shrugs. “Go see what he wants you to do and then decline. He can ask one of the senior agents if he needs to.”   


Peter nods. “Alright, thanks Fitz. And its, uh, its good to see you. I’m glad you’re back in one piece.”

“You too, Parker,” Fitz says, and then he turns around and wanders off, pulling out his phone and tapping something into it.

Peter heads back inside and starts to fold up all his papers and pens and books. Then he plucks up the SHIELD ID from his bedside table, turns the lights off, and locks the door behind him. Even though it won’t stop anyone trying to get in. He debates installing an electronic lock on the door, and makes a note to ask Fitz or Coulson if that’s something he’ll be allowed to do.

He heads to the computer labs and chooses one in the farthest corner from the door. Then he puts one of the headsets on, turns on the computer and opens up a secure line. Coulson activates it almost instantly.

“Agent Parker,” He greets.

“Agent Coulson, sir,” Peter nods back. “Fitz says you wanted me?”

“Yes. There’s a space in an outside op opened up. You’ll be headed out to Somalia. We’ve gained intel that there’s been a nuclear bomb dropped fifty feet off the shore Mogadishu. You’ll be sent out there with a team of five divers, three Quinjet fliers and four fighters. Of course, we’ll send you and a more senior tech agent too and we’ll need you to disable to bomb and bring it back with you so we can dismantle it and find out who placed it,” Coulson explains.

“I- I don’t know.”

“You’ll leave tomorrow, if you decide to take it. I’d like you to come to the meeting today anyway, just so you know what’ll be going on, even if you don’t end up going.”   


Peter nods. “Of course. What time?”

“One PM,” Coulson says. “We’ll be meeting in meeting room seven, in the Playground. I’ve already spoken to Anne Turner, and she’s prepared a jet to fly you over.”

Peter nods, checking his watch. “Okay.”   


“She’ll send someone to collect you at midday. I’ll see you, then, Agent Parker.”   


Coulson ends the call as soon as he’s said that, and Peter is left staring at a blank grey-black screen. He can see his reflection in it, and watches as he reaches up slowly to remove the headset. 

He sits there for another four or so minutes, before pushing back his chair just as slowly and standing up, intent on finding Gwen, and maybe calling MJ and Harry and Ned too.

Actually, maybe not Ned and Harry. He’s not sure how much he’ll be allowed to tell Ned and Harry. MJ and Gwen are fine, MJ might even be going with him. But Ned and Harry are technically just civilians and this mission is probably classified.

Peter sighs, heavily, and walks out of the computer lab.

 

*

 

“Gwen?”Peter asks, “Do you think I’d be allowed to talk to MJ about missions?”

“Why? Have you been asked on one?” Gwen asks, capping her pen and tracing it under the sentence she just wrote as she rereads it.

“Mhm,” Peter confirms. “And I wanted to talk to you and MJ about it but I don’t know how much I can discuss. I can probably tell you where we’re going, right?”

“I’d imagine so,” Gwen says, “The location probably isn’t classified. I wouldn’t say why you’re going, though. That could get all three of us in trouble.”   


“Yeah. Good point. Well, Coulson wants me to go to Mogadishu.”   


“Where’s that?” Gwen asks, dropping her pen on top of the notebook. It makes a dull thud.

“Somalia,” Peter says, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, but Coulson says they’ll send another, senior tech agent, and twelve other agents.”   


“A team of fourteen?” Gwen looks up at him, raising her eyebrows. “Must be some mission. Normally, they send three to seven.”   


“How do you know that?” Peter asks.

“It’s in one of the handbooks,” Gwen says. “Haven’t you read them?”

“You have?” Peter asks, incredulously.

Gwen shrugs. “I did as soon as I found out that we were being accepted here.”   


“Nerd,” Peter coughs.

Gwen swats at him. “Oh, shush. It means I can tell you what you can and can’t tell me. Is there a briefing?”

“Yep. ‘Parently, Coulson organised a jet to fly me over to the Playground at twelve,” Peter says. “Because we’re meeting at the Playground. Which means it must be serious, right?”

“It probably is serious. Has Coulson told you anything about it?”

“He has, a little bit. But I guess I’ll find out more at the meeting. Hey, have you answered this one yet?”

Gwen leans over to read the question Peter’s pointing to, and then they’re distracted with the books again.

 

*

 

The knock on Peter’s dorm door interrupts them. An unfamiliar agent stands outside, dressed in flight gear. There’s a double holster around the agent’s waist, holding two SIG Sauer P226 hand guns. A strap on her thigh holds two throwing knives. Her left hand holds a flight helmet, her right holding a headset.

“Agent Parker?”

“That’s me,” Peter says, “Are you here to take me to the Playground?”

“Yep. I’m Agent Frange. Are you ready to leave?”

Peter nods, reaching up onto his bed to snag the SHIELD hoodie there. “Are you alright here, Gwen?” He asks her.

“Yep. I’ll lock your door when I leave,” she teases, waving at him as he heads out the door.

Peter makes a face back, and then says, “See you.”   


“Have fun!” Gwen calls after him. Peter grins, following behind Frange.

“What jet are we taking?” Peter asks Frange, tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Just a two person fighter jet,” Frange says. “There’s a flight helmet on there for you.”   


“Fighter jet? Are we expecting to be ambushed?”

“It’s a safety precaution,” Frange says, shortly. She pushes her finger onto the scanner outside the doors to the Hangar. 

The Hangar is, as always, a bustle of activity. There are people bussing in and out on Quinjets, or fighter jets, or helicopters. There’s also people wheeling pieces of engines in and out of the workshops. Peter stares at them, mentally working out solutions to the problems and noting them down in his head in case anyone needs any help when they get back. Frange turns to watch him, and grins at his wide eyed look.

“I thought you’ve been here before?” She asks.

“Oh, I have. It doesn’t stop amazing me, though,” Peter says.

Frange chuckles and leads him over to a two person jet. It’s painted shiny black, but Peter knows that’s just concealing the reflective panelling. “Here,” she says, opening the door with her handprint and a cornea scan. She reaches in to pull a flight helmet off of the back seat, and then helps Peter to jump in. She climbs up herself and hands the helmet back. “You know how to put these on, right?”

Peter turns the helmet around in his hands a few times, cataloguing each and every part (and noting ways to make it better). “I’ve figured it out.” Then he pulls it on.

Frange checks it, nods to herself, and then speaks into a comm device. “This is Agent Frange, prepping fighter jet three-oh-six for takeoff. Agent Frange, prepping for take off.”   


“Take off authorized,” someone replies, Peter doesn’t know who and can’t place the voice. “Safe flight, Agent Frange.”

“Agent Frange, taking off with fighter jet three-oh-six,” Frange says, “Agent Frange, taking off with fighter jet three-oh-six.”   


The roof opens up, and Frange flicks the engine on. Then they’re flying up, and up, and out into the sky.

 

*

 

They get about forty five minutes int to the flight before trouble arrives. Peter is staring out at the cloudless, blue skies, when something catches his eye.

“Hey, what’s that?” He murmurs. It doesn’t look like a bird, it’s too big, and it too dark black to be a passenger plane.

“Hm?” Frange asks, but doesn’t turn back.

“There’s a- Frange, there’s another plane,” Peter says. He sees two miniscule cannons activate on the other plane, “They’ve activated cannons, and guns-” Then there’s a loud explosion and there’s a missile flying towards them.

Frange swears loudly and propels their plane forward quickly, putting it in a loop and then firing a laser at the bomb. It explodes in mid air, which is better than it exploding on the ground, Peter thinks. Frange tosses a comm device back at him and demands, “Contact HQ. That’s set on the frequency for the Playground. Tell them we’ll be landing there as soon as, so to prep a runway, and that we might have a tail if I can’t get rid of them. Then, you’re a techie, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am,” Peter says.

“Figure out how to change the frequency, then, and get The Hub on the line. They can contact the Academies too,” Frange orders. The other plane fires again, this time a red laser. Frange dodges by ripping downwards.

Peter shoves the comm in his ear and says, “This is Agent Parker with Agent Frange, in fighter jet three-oh-six.”   


“ _ Parker? _ ” Comes Coulson’s voice. “ _ What’s going on? _ ”

“There’s another plane, shooting at us. Frange is requesting space for an immediate landing, and possible back up if she can’t get the plane down,” Peter says.

_ “Right, got it. We’ll get a space and a team prepped now. Contact the Hub, let them know what’s going on _ ,” Coulson says. “ _ And be careful, alright. Both of you. Death brings a lot of paperwork. _ ”   


Peter yanks the comm out as soon as Coulson is done speaking, slipping the mini-toolkit he keeps out of his pocket. He uses the screwdriver and tweezers to adjust the frequency and then puts it back in his ear. “This is Agent Parker with Agent Frange, in fight jet three-oh-six. Is this The Hub?”

“ _ This is The Hub receiving _ ,” another agent Peter doesn’t recognise says. 

“There’s another plane attacking us. Frange landing at the Playground, and may require backup if she can’t take the other out,” Peter says.

“ _ Got it _ ,” the agent says. “ _ Have you contacted the Playground yet? _ ”

“Yep.”   


_ “We’ll inform the Academies and send out a backup to your location now _ ,” the agent says. “ _ Stay safe _ .”

The agent clicks off, and Peter gasps as he’s thrown forward when Frange dodges a spray of bullets. One clips the side of their jet, and the left cannon goes out.

“Shit!” Frange exclaims. “Shit, shit, shit.”   


“I can fix that!” Peter yells.

“No, you can’t! You’d have to go out to do that!” Frange yells back.

Peter takes a deep breath. “We can’t fight with only half our weapons working, Frange.”   


He watches as Frange tightens her jaw. “Fine. Let me get around the other side though, so you’re out the line of fire.”

Peter nods, reaching around for a length of rope. He ties it around his middle, and then attaches the other end to the back of his seat. He adjusts the flight helmet, and then tucks a comm unit in his ear. “Can I put a comm in your ear?” He asks Frange.

Frange nods, not taking her hands off of the flight controls. Peter pushes the unit into her ear. “Right, be careful, alright, Parker? I would never normally let anyone do this, okay? You’re risking your life, and you’re only a baby.”   


“I know,” he tugs on the rope and then tugs a parachute around himself. “I’ll be fine,” he says, half to himself and half to Frange, and then he tugs himself out of the plane before he can have second thoughts.

His first thought, as he hangs somewhat in mid air and kind of dangling, is that its really fucking windy. Air whips back and forth, pushing his hair in front of his eyes and then pulling it back again before he can move it. It also kind of moves him, making him sway like a pendulum in a clock. 

His second thought is that it’s almost beautiful. The sky is really blue, and the grass below is just a green splodge.

The third and fourth thoughts are ‘Wow, I’m really fucking glad these helmets have oxygen filtered through’ and ‘holy shit, not so beautiful anymore’ as another spray of bullets falls on them and Frange jerks the plane to dodge them.

Peter hooks his legs around the wheels and opens up his mini toolkit. Then he starts fiddling around with the canon, chanting ‘don’t look down’ to himself.

Five minutes, ten bullet sprays, and three bombs, later, their canon is fixed, so Peter hauls himself back in the jet and exhales heavily.

“You okay, Parker?” Frange asks.

“Fine. Cannon is fixed,” Peter says, untying the rope and untangling himself from the parachute.

“Good,” Frange says. “The Hub have back up on the way, so we can leave this guy as soon as they get here and head off to the Playground for our meeting.”   


Peter isn’t given a chance to answer before there’s another missile launched at them, and then Frange launches one back with enough force it rocks their plane. Their bomb actually hits the other plane, taking out the right wing. It catches on fire, and then plummets.

They watch it fall, and then Frange says, “We should probably tell someone that it’s down.”   


Peter nods, and picks up the comm again.

 

*

 

“Agent Frange, Agent Parker,” Coulson greets as soon as they land in Playground. He has a grim, closed-mouth smile on his face, and even though it wrinkles the lines around his eyes, it doesn’t reach them. “Did you take the enemy jet down or do we need to send out a retrieval team?”

“We took it down, but I don’t know if anyone survived. I would send out a team anyway, see if we can get anything from them,” Frange says.

“Do we know who it was?” Coulson asks.

“I’m not sure, but my best guess would be Hydra. I don’t know how they knew we would be flying over that way, though, so unless we have another rat, then I don’t know how they could have found out,” Frange says, “I thought we flushed all of Hydra out?”

Coulson grimaces. “I thought so too. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone still in contact. I’ll look into it. Were either of you injured?”

Frange shakes her head. “Parker might need to sit down, and also a promotion.”

“Why?” Coulson asks, flicking his eyes over to Peter. Peter blushes.

“The enemy jet took out one of our canons, so Peter tied a length of rope to him and climbed out of our jet to fix it. Mid air, mid fight,” Frange explains. 

Peter shrugs. “It wasn’t that big of a deal,” he says, but Coulson looks impressed anyway.

“Hm,” Coulson says. “We’ll figure something out. As long as neither of you need immediate medical attention, we’ll start our meeting in five minutes.”

Frange nods. “Got it. Oh, and sir? I think I’d really like Parker on my team for Somalia.”   


 

*

 

Peter wasn’t expecting to feel nervous for the meeting, but he’s been sitting on a sort of lumpy couch, one that is hard on one side and soft on the other. He keeps shifting from one side to the other, partly out of nerves and partly because it’s really uncomfortable.

Someone gave him a water bottle, he’s not sure who and he’s not sure when, but he keeps screwing and unscrewing the lid. The couch feels like faux crushed velvet, and running his hand along it grounds him.

Frange pokes her head out of meeting room seven, “Parker? You ready?”

Peter jumps up and nods. “Yeah. Yep. Are we starting now?”

“Yeah,” Frange says, opening the door wider so Peter can pass.

The room isn’t large, but it isn’t small either. There’s a crusty looking, brown carpet, and a long laminated wood table running down the middle. There are already fourteen people sitting at the table, and most of them Peter doesn’t recognise. Coulson is sitting at the head of the table, and Fury at the other end. There are seven people on one side and five on the other, with two empty chairs at the end, obviously for Peter and Frange.

“Parker, Frange,” Coulson says. “Take a seat, and we’ll get started.”

Peter does, taking the seat Frange hadn’t and glancing around at all the faces he doesn’t recognise. There’s guy in his thirties with wide, round glasses on, a white shirt tucked in and a red stripy tie and Peter has a ‘Hey, it’s one of my own’ moment. Then he decides that he will attach himself to that guy and Frange until they get sick of him.

The guy who Peter presumes is the other techie catches his eye and gives him a small smile. The Coulson stands up and says, “We’ll start by introducing everyone. I assume you all know a little but of why you’re here, so I’ll introduce the divers first. If you could stand up?”

A group of five people stand, all of them look a little bit like Aquaman (well, that’s the first comparison Peter came to.) All five have well defined muscles, and Peter can easily imagine them as mermaids.

“We’ll go around and introduce yourself,” Coulson suggests.

The first one, a woman who looks in her late twenties grins an easygoing grin and brushes shoulder length wavy hair out of her face. “I’m Agent Alezing. Head diver.”

The man next to her introduces himself as “Agent Roth.” He has brown, dull hair and brown, dull eyes but looks nice enough.

The next man is tall, with dark hair and light eyes and piano player fingers. “Hi, I’m Agent O’Reilly.” “Agent Herman,” the next woman says. Her voice is deep and kind of scratchy, in a comforting way that reminds Peter of a fire crackling. 

He kind of tunes out after that, remembering enough to know the hair and eye colour, and name of each agent. He tunes back in when Frange nudges him with her elbow though, and she darts her eyes to the techie.

“I’m Agent Carr,” The techie says. “Felix Carr.”

Then it’s Frange’s turn. She stands up, smiles, says, “I’m head pilot, and I’ve requested Agent Parker here on my team.”   


“Why?” Agent Taylor, one of the other pilots, asks.

“Because he saved my life,” Frange says simply, and Peter tries to hide his blush.

“Is this Parker, then?” Taylor says.

Peter nods. “Yeah. Hi.”   


“But he’s a baby,” Taylor says, his voice taking on a whiny tone. “This mission is too high risk for a baby agent.”   


Peter decides they’re not going to get along at all. Coulson glares at Taylor too. 

Fury speaks up, “Sometimes we have to run before we can walk,” he says. “I’ve seen the camera footage of Parker and Frange on the way here. I say Parker is perfectly able for this op.”   


“What footage?” Peter asks, frowning.

“From the enemy pilot,” Coulson says. “All our jets have built in camera links. We managed to salvage some of it.”   


“I think I’d like to see this footage,” Taylor says, folding his arms on the table top. “Then maybe I can make my own judge on his character.”   


Frange grimaces and rolls her eyes and Peter. “Is that okay with you?” She asks him.

Peter shrugs. “I guess so.”   


Coulson nods and clicks a button on a concealed remote. Peter is already looking at it in interest, and once Coulson has set up the camera footage he notices Peter’s staring. He winks and chucks the remote over. Peter catches it in one hand, smiles back gratefully and distracts himself by dismantling it and putting the remote back together.

On the hologram screen, there’s a video from a camera situated above Peter’s head in the plane.

It shows Peter fiddling with the comm, trying to get it to the right frequency, and then it shows him tying the rope around his abdomen.

He hears Taylor mutter, “Idiot,” under his breath, and, “That rope will never hold.”   


Peter frowns, feeling glad that it did hold, because he’s not a fan of falling to his death.

On the screen, he watches himself climb out of the plane and cling to the side of it, holding a screwdriver in his mouth and one in his hand. On screen Peter squeezes his eyes tight shut and Peter remembers willing himself not to look down.

One of the divers sucks in a sharp breath as Screen Peter wraps his legs around the wheels of the plane and starts fiddling with the cannon. Peter can’t really remember which one it is.

The footage ends as soon as Screen Peter crawls back inside the plane and Peter glances back up as soon as he feels everyone else’s eyes on him. He can’t tell if they’re impressed or reprimanding.

Taylor is silent, though, glaring at him. 

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Coulson says, “Can we get on with the real reason we called this meeting?”

Peter isn’t really sure who the question is directed to, but Taylor nods sulkily. Coulson nods too and then holds his hand out for the remote he threw Peter.

“Why’d you give him that?” Taylor demands.

Coulson rolls his eyes at Peter, taking the remote back. “I don’t see how that’s your business, Agent Taylor.”   


Peter feels his cheeks redden again. “Uh, sir? I uh, I fixed the laser pointer, by the way.”   


Coulson looks pleasantly surprised. “Did you? Well done, Agent Parker. Thank you. We’ll get on, then.”   


 

*

 

Peter realises quickly enough that meetings are really fucking boring. It lasts for about two hours, and they go back and forth and back and forth on things he picked up on forty five minutes prior to discussing it.

Coulson had said if he wants to speak, then just to go for it. But he doesn’t. Instead he settled for making faces at the other genius, Agent Felix Carr.

Felix comes to find him after the meeting, carrying two bottles of water. Peter is sitting on the same half lump, half soft couch, and moves over to the hard side so Felix can sit on the soft.

“You okay?” Felix asks, handing over one of the bottles. “I wouldn’t let Taylor get to you.”   


Peter sighs, twisting the cap off of the water. “I’m trying.”

“Are you nervous for the mission?”

“I don’t even know if I'm going to take it yet,” Peter shrugs. “Coulson asked me to come whether I accept or not.”

“Coulson doesn’t do anything without a reason. I think he knows you’re going to accept. He wouldn’t ask you to come if he didn’t think that,” Felix says.

Peter hums. “Good point. I am nervous, I guess. I mean, earlier was the first time I was involved in a fire fight. I’ve never been on ops that might need gunfire or something.”   


“What ops have you been on before, then?” Felix asks.

“Mostly I do them from the computer labs at the Sci-Tech Academy. I haven’t even done my exams yet, so I don’t know why Coulson asked me to come on this mission. Taylor’s right, I am inexperienced,” he sighs.

Felix frowns and takes a gulp of water. “You’re the one who got Jones, Ficenna, Smikker, and May back alive, right?”

“Yeah,” Peter nods. “Yeah, I am. But I had help.”   


“But you did most of it?"

Peter brushes his hand over the faux crushed velvet again. “I guess. I’ve only been on one active op before, and even then it wasn’t this level.”

“Have you ever done diving before?” Felix asks.

“I’ve done the required diving classes, all the survival instincts ones,” Peter says, “But not this.”   


“I wouldn’t worry. If you can’t go down, I’ll go with the divers and bring the bomb back up to you. We will have to be careful, the bomb is only two kilometres out from the shore. If it explodes, we die, a million plus civilians die or suffer from radiation poisoning,” Felix says.

“Not exactly making me feel better,” Peter mutters.

Felix chuckles. “I doubt it. But if you’re anything like me, hearing the statistics will help you make sense of it all.”   


Peter sighs, hating that yeah, Felix is right. “Alright. I guess I’ll take the mission. I’ll go tell Coulson.”   


Felix smiles. “Good. Coulson will send out meeting times later this evening.”   


Peter nods and stands up. Then he says, “Hey, Felix? Do you know the coordinates for the bomb?”

“Why?”

“As much as I like SHIELD agents, I don’t always trust them to have my back,” Peter shrugs, “I just want my friend to know where she might find my body if something goes wrong. At least that way it’ll stop her from jeopardising her own SHIELD career by hacking all of their secure networks again.”   


Felix frowns. “Again?”

“Does no one know how I got involved with SHIELD?” Peter asks. “I’d have thought the story would be everywhere.”   


“There’s a story?”

“Yeah. The reason Gwen Stacy, Michelle Jones and I work for SHIELD is because they invited us when we were all in our last year of high school. We had hacked the secure SHIELD data banks. Does no one seriously know it?”

Felix chuckles. “I didn’t. The coordinates are 2.016247, 45.382025. I wouldn’t tell her more than that, though. That way both of you could get in trouble. Also, one day I’d like to hear more about this hacking SHIELD story.”   


“You got it,” Peter says, smiling weakly at Felix before heading to the exit of the Playground. He’s not in the mood to fly back to the Sci-Tech Academy, so he decides to try and find a subway station.

 

*

 

“Peter!” Gwen exclaims as soon as he walks in his dorm room. She’s still in there, sitting on his bed exactly where he left her.

Peter feels absolutely exhausted - aside from an hour and half subway ride, the meeting has taken a lot out of him, and the nerves of tomorrow are making his fingers jittery.

“How did the meeting go?” Gwen asks, “Are you going to take the mission?”

Peter nods slowly. “Yeah, I think I am.”   


Gwen claps and grins, but Peter sees the worry hidden behind her eyes, can see the way tears will probably spill over as soon as he leaves. “Have you told Coulson and Fitz?”

“I’m gonna send them a message later,” Peter says. “Did you get any more studying down?”

Gwen shakes her head. “I was worried about you. I heard what happened. Everyone’s been talking about it - it’s quite disconcerting how fast gossip spreads here, actually. But everyone has been talking about you and how you saved Agent Frange. Is it true?”

Peter nods. “It’s true.”   


“Oh, wow,” Gwen breathes. “You’re definitely ready for a big operation like this one, then.”   


Peter grins and sits next to her on his bed, leaning sideways till his cheek hits her shoulder. “If all missions means sitting through meetings like that, then I’m never going on a mission again.”

Gwen chuckles, and Peter feels the vibrations through his jaw.

“Uh, Gwen, listen,” Peter says. “It’s a diving mission. I can’t tell you what we’re going to get, but I can tell you the coordinates. In case something goes wrong. Not that it will. But if it does, I just want you to have my coordinates so you don’t have to hack SHIELD again to find out where I am.”   


Gwen frowns at him. “What do you mean what could go wrong?”

“Well, I don’t know. If I die, or something. I’m not cut out for fighting, whether it’s hand to hand, or guns or whatever.”   


Gwen nods, “Okay. But nothing will happen.”   


“I’m not saying it will. I just want you to not put your SHIELD career at risk just because mine might have ended,” Peter says. “Here, let me write them down.”   


He reaches over for his orange ring bound notebook, and scribbles the coordinates Felix told him earlier and rips the page out. Then he tucks it into Gwen’s hand. 

“You’ll be fine,” Gwen says, and Peter doesn’t comment on how it sounds more like she’s trying to convince herself than him. “Anyway, if you’ve got a big op tomorrow, then we should get something to eat and then sleep.”   


Peter nods, so they get a meal from the cafeteria. Then he goes back to his dorm alone, sends off an email to Coulson and Fitz, packs a bag of clothes just in case and curls up under the bed covers.

Sleep doesn’t come for a while, and when it does, he doesn’t sleep well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think ive got fitz characterisation a bit off. idk.
> 
> by the way most of the agents i mention are OC's. so like
> 
> i love writing fight scenes but i dont think im any good at them. i also dont know a, how to fix a plane or b, how to fight in a plane.
> 
> comment what you thought about this chapter pleEeAaAse! i need validation my dudes.
> 
> by the way, deadpool is getting introduced next chapter I PROMISE. super promise. cant break those.
> 
> now im going to hide under my bed for a week because BROOKLYN NINE NINE IS GETTING CANCELLED AND IM SO MAD
> 
> thanks for reading, friends. see you next chapter. whenever that may be. hopefully soon.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taylor is an asshole, peter is a badass, and hey look, deadpool!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woop woop! hope you enjoy!

 

He wakes up some time before nine am, which isn’t bad considering he fell asleep at about four. It does mean he’s painfully tired, and kind of nauseous, but he puts that down to pre-mission nerves too.

Gwen must have been in at some point, because there’s a lukewarm mug of coffee in a chipped blue mug on his desk. Stuck under the mug, with a pale brown coffee ring on, is a note on a piece of lined paper that looks to be ripped out of a notebook.

_ Peter,  _ it says, when Peter picks it up. He takes a sip of lukewarm coffee before continuing. 

_ Peter, if I don’t see you before you go, then good luck on the mission. If you can, text me when you get there. Text me before you get back too and I’ll organise a welcome home party. I’ll make notes on everything and you can borrow them when you get back. Fitz-Simmons say good luck too. Stay safe, dumbass. Gwen xoxoxo _

_ PS: MJ says if you die, she’s bringing you back to life to kick your ass because, and I quote, if you’ve hung around her for practically your entire life and you haven’t learnt how to successfully roundhouse kick someone then she’s failed. She loves you too, by the way. _

Peter grins, drains the coffee and refolds the note. Then he shoves a drawing pin through it and sticks it to his wall.

A quick glance at the analog clock on his wall tells him that it’s thirty seven minutes past eight, and an even quicker glance at his laptop reveals a message from Coulson, saying he’ll be by to pick Peter up at nine.

Twenty three minutes to get ready and calm the fuck down, then. Easy.

 

*

 

Not easy.

He gets dressed and showered (and tooth brushed, and hair brushed and all of the stuff that Gwen nags him to do) in seventeen minutes, and allocates five of the remaining minutes to ‘Freak Out Time’

Freak Out Time means sitting on his bed, staring at the wall, and mentally running through every possible outcome from the mission. 

He uses the last minute to take a deep breath, do a tree yoga pose (Gwen says it helps, but all it does is make him stressed because he keeps wobbling over), and then Coulson knocks on his dorm door.

“Morning, sir,” Peter says, sounding more cheerful than he feels. 

Coulson frowns at him. “Nervous?”

Peter kind of deflates and nods. “A little, yeah.”   


“Good,” Coulson says. “I’d probably have to send you to medical if you weren’t. It’s your first big mission, I’d be worried if you weren’t a bit scared. Are you ready?”

Peter nods. “Is there anything I need to bring?”

Coulson shakes his head. “No. There’s already been a bag packed for you by the teams in charge of disguises. You won’t need to change up your hair, but a few days of not shaving should help you blend in a little. You can wear your SHIELD clothes, but only on the jets. If you’re heading into the public, make sure to put on civs.”   


“Got it,” Peter says, subconsciously tugging the sleeves of his SHIELD hoodie around his hands.

“Lets go, then. We’re meeting the rest of the your team at the Hub, where we’ll suit up and head out. Obviously, Frange is the head pilot, and Alezing is head diver. Sawyer is the head of the attack team, and obviously you and Carr can work out between the two of you. You’re both on similar levels of intelligence, so it isn’t who’s the cleverest,” Coulson says, “Like I said, you two can work it out.”   


“Who’s head of the entire mission, sir?” Peter asks.

“Probably Frange,” Coulson says. “Frange, or Taylor, as much as I hate to say it. They’ve both been on equal amounts of ops, and get good results every time.”

“God, I hope it’s not Taylor,” Peter mutters and he doesn’t think Coulson hears it but Peter does catch him laughing as they walk along the corridor to the Hangar.

 

*

 

Frange and Taylor are talking (arguing, Peter thinks, as he watches the way Frange whips her hands around. Her blonde ponytail bounces with every gesture). Taylor is answering with some pretty violent ones of his own, though, and at one point mimes slapping her across the face. Which makes Peter want to slap Taylor across the face.

Frange freezes the instant she spots sight of Coulson, though. “Morning, sir.”   


“Agent Frange, Agent Taylor. Everyone,” Coulson says, even though his gaze slips right over Taylor. “I presume you’re all ready for today?”

No one speaks up, but several of the divers nod.

“Good. We’ll take five minutes to triple check we have all necessary equipment and then meet back here,” Coulson suggests.

Peter watches, mesmerized, as the soldiers push guns and knives and all sorts of things into hidden pouches on their uniforms. One glance and he’s memorised every single part of the handguns they’re using- figuring out exactly how to dismantle them. He only hopes he’ll have the same kind of luck when it comes to the actual bomb.

Felix comes and finds him just as Peter turns his attention to the divers, watching them gather scuba gear and oxygen tanks. “Morning, Peter.”   


“Oh- Hey, Felix.   


It’s kind of nice being the two geniuses. It means no one bothers them, or watches with a scrutinizing eye as Peter packs his state of the art, SHIELD issued laptop, or his GPS tracker, cell phone, ear pods, and the lucky key chain Ned had given him for his fifth birthday, and then the next day he had met MJ.

Felix doesn’t question his mannerisms either - in fact, he appears to have some of his own. Peter notes how he straightens and re-straightens his tie three times (a blue and green polka dot one today) and meticulously count all the items in his long wear camping back pack.

Five minutes later and Frange and Taylor are arguing again. Peter only catches the end of it, but it’s enough to hear Taylor yell, “I’m directing this mission, Frange! If I were you, I would shut up and listen to me, because I have the power to kick you off of this team!”

It’s also enough to feel his heart sink and his brain sing ‘Oh fuck’ in a surprisingly pleasant harmony.

Felix grumbles something unintelligible under his breath next to Peter and Peter catches his eye and rolls them. Felix gives him a small smile.

“Taylor!” Coulson snaps out. “If you cannot use your authority in such a way that ensures all members of your team are safe, you will be benched until you can understand that you are responsible for all these people's’ lives.”   


Taylor glares at Frange for another second before nodding. “Got it.”   


“Good,” Coulson says. “There’s a comm unit on your plane. It’s patched into either me, The Hub, The Playground, Director Fury, or Maria Hill. If you need assistance, you call any one of those lines and we’ll pick it up. You know your mission, there’s more info inside the jet. Take care of one another. If someone comes back dead because of a rookie mistake, you’ll have me to answer to. We can’t afford to lose anymore agents.

“If you’re diving, you listen to Alezing, or one of the other divers. If you’re flying, you listen to Frange, Taylor, or Long. If you’re fighting, listen to Sawyer, and any one else on the protection squad. If Parker or Carr ask you to do something pertaining to the bomb, you do it. They are our resident experts, and no offence, but none of you have any hope of dismantling it. If they need something to help, you get them that thing.

“That should be all. If you have any more questions, we can do our best to answer them,” Coulson finishes. “Taylor, we’re trusting you here. If any one comes back without a beating heart,” he lets the threat hang in the air before continuing. “And look after Parker, okay? He’s smart, fast and strong, but he is still a baby agent.”   


“Got it, sir,” Frange says. “We should start loading up now.”   


Coulson nods, so Frange and Taylor lead the way to a largish, matte black jet. From what he can see through the windows, Peter thinks it looks like a private jet. Not that he’s ever been in one before.

Before he can board, though, Coulson pulls him back. Felix nods at Peter’s bag, and Peter nods back so Felix lifts it and carries it on to the jet. 

“Parker. If I could change the leader of this op, I would. But I can’t. If he gets anyone hurt or killed because of a reckless mistake, I want to know, okay? Now be safe,” Coulson says. “I meant it when I said we can’t afford to lose agents. And I’d hate to lose you. Frange will try to help you with whatever she can, and so will Carr. We’ll check in once a week, depending on how long the op lasts.”   


Peter nods. “Got it, sir. Thank you, sir.”   


Coulson smiles and pats Peter’s shoulder. “Now don’t get yourself killed, alright?” Peter nods, grinning back. “Off you go, then.”   


So Peter does, darting up the ramp, and smiling back at Coulson one last time. Then the Hangar ceiling is opening, and the jet is taking off, and Peter’s heart is in his throat.

 

*

 

The jet is surprisingly comfortable. Frange and Taylor have already made their way into the cockpit, and there’s a live feed of it playing on a holoscreen. They’re bickering, again, and Peter winces every time Taylor looks like he’s about to hit something.

Agent Alezing and her team are already sprawled out on the two seater sofas scattered around. The attack squad are all mostly silent, checking through their weapons again.

Felix catches Peter’s eye and nods his head towards what looks like a laboratory. Peter nods eagerly, picks up his back pack, and follows Felix.

The actual lab looks pretty well stocked. Well, pretty well stocked for an aeroplane. Felix opens the fingerprint activated doors, and Peter walks inside.

It is pretty well stocked, equipped for this mission, and all kinds of others. Peter runs his finger tips over the top of a metal work bench, staring in wonder at all the equipment. He hasn’t even seen all of it, but he has only been in two proper labs before (Jemma Simmons’, and the SHIELD one).

Felix chuckles. “Pretty cool, right?”

“Pretty cool,” Peter repeats.

“I have a feeling we’re going to be spending most of our time in here,” Felix says.

“Yeah,” Peter agrees. “Gotta get away from all the crazy well built, competitive streaks somehow, right?”

Felix grins. “Right.”   


Peter sighs. "We should probably head back out there, right?”

“We should. All the coffee is out there, anyway.”   


“Man after my own heart,” Peter says, splaying his right hand over his chest. “Let’s go, then.”   


“I’d imagine they want to discuss tactics, or something,” Felix says, “Being there for that would probably help both us and them.”

“I think to start with,” Peter says, opening the door and listening to the hiss, “Is to stop thinking of it as an us and them situation. We’re a team, right? We should be thinking of ourselves as that.”   


“I think you’re gonna be good for this team, Parker,” Felix says, “I really do.”   


 

 

*

 

They’re all bickering again, once Peter and Felix get back up to the main deck.

Taylor demands, “And where the hell were you two?”

“Getting the lay of the land,” Peter shrugs, “Checking out where we’ll be working for however long this mission takes. I thought you were flying the plane?”

“We were,” Frange says, before Taylor can, “We put it on automatic mode so we can discuss strategies and whatnot.”   


Peter frowns. “There’s an automatic mode?”

“Well, duh. Haven’t you ever been on a jet?” Taylor teases.

“Actually, Taylor, he has, but last time we were getting shot at,” Frange says irritably. 

Taylor doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he just glares at Frange and then starts talking. “We’ll arrive in Somalia in about sixteen hours, so we’ll spend an hour or so now discussing, and then once we get to Mogadishu, we’ll find our dive spot and discuss again. So if everyone can gather round, please.”   


There’s a few reluctant grumbles as everyone moves to semi circle around Taylor, but after two minutes, everyone is silent.

“Good. So, we’ll need to decide on who’s going to dive first,” Taylor says. “I think we should send Alezing, Roth, and O’Reilly to start with, along with Carr. We’ll put Sawyer and Long on the boat as well. Frange, Briggs, Haynes, Herman, Glenn, Parker, and I will stay on the jet, and circle above in case you need a rescue.”

Well, it’s not a bad plan.

“Um, sir?” Felix says, “I can’t dive. You’ll have to send Parker.”   


Taylor frowns. “Why can’t you dive? Why were you even sent on this mission if you can’t dive?”

“My doctor advised against it,” Felix shrugs. “I’m sorry.”

“Hm,” Taylor says. “Whatever. Parker will dive, then. Unless Parker has a doctor’s note too?”

“Um, no, I can- I can dive,” Peter says.

“Good,” Taylor says. “Now I want to know that you’re all going to listen to what I say, and obey. We aren’t going to work as a team if someone is going off and doing their own thing. I have your best interests at heart, if I say to do something, I expect it to be done. I would never put any of you in danger.”   


Frange catches Peter’s eye and they both make the same ‘stop bullshitting you absolute liar’ face.

“If we fail this mission,” Taylor continues, “Millions of people die. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want that on my conscience, you know? So if we’re going to be making stupid, reckless decisions, it’s because either I’ve called them, or it’s going to save as many people as possible. Got it?”

“Got it,” everyone choruses. Then the the divers all stand up, giggle amongst themselves and walk off. 

“Oh, whatever,” Taylor grumbles. “Dismissed.”

“It’s like being back at school,” Peter tells Frange, making his way over to her.

“Is it? School feels like it happened ages ago for me.”   


“It was only four years ago for me,” Peter says. “But Taylor reminds me of my old homeroom teacher. Complete asshole, huge control freak.”   


Frange laughs. “Well, you’re not wrong. Just don’t let him hear you. Come on, let’s go work out our own battle plan.”   


“And draw offensive cartoons of the nasty head teacher while we do it?” Peter teases.

“Well, why not?” Frange says. 

 

*

 

They use nearly an entire pad of paper. But it’s fun, drawing caricatures of Taylor and Alezing and Felix and Coulson and Gwen, and Frange’s little sister Mia, who she only sees on Christmas and Birthdays because having a family when you’re a SHIELD agent isn’t always a good thing.

“That’s why we have to make our own families,” Frange tells him, colouring the last strand of Mia’s blonde hair and capping the pen. “You have Gwen, and MJ, and I have my Gwen’s and MJ’s.”

“You have your Peter’s, too,” Peter says, folding up his drawing of Ned and sticking it in the semi secret compartment of his back pack, so he can remember to send the picture to Ned later.

“Yeah,” Frange chuckles. “Yeah, I have my Peter’s.”

“Frange! Parker!” Someone calls, and Peter thinks it’s one of the divers. “Taylor wants team dinner!”   


Frange rolls her eyes at Peter. “We’d better go, then,” she says, and then louder, “Coming!”

Peter hears the other agent wander off, and Frange starts folding up all her paper. He folds his, and then stands, before holding out a hand to help Frange up to. “What sort of food do you have on the jet?” He asks.

Frange grimaces. “We have about a weeks worth of perishables, and after that we’ll have to restock. But if we run out, there’s always the non perishable, microwave meals. SHIELD will cover our grocery budget, but I don’t know how long it’ll last - this is quite a big team for an extraction mission - and if we’re over open water with no access to a supermarket, we might have to degrade to microwave plastic.”   


Peter chuckles. “Yum. Microwave plastic, my favourite.”   


“Mine too,” Frange says, leading Peter through the jet to the makeshift kitchen of sorts. Everyone is sort of gathered around there, chatting amongst themselves and thoroughly ignoring Taylor (who is trying his best to get their attention.)

“Hey, Alezing,” Frange says, “What’s there to eat?”

Alezing turns and grins. “Apparently Carr can cook, so I think he’s making pasta bake.”   


Peter turns and, sure enough, Felix is standing at the small stove chopping onions. Or what smells like onions. Peter can’t really see, so he moves away from Frange and towards Felix.

“Hey, you need any help?” He asks.

Felix looks up and nods. “Sure. Can you start chopping some carrots?”

“Sticks or circles?” Peter says, picking up a knife and a bag of pre peeled carrots.

“Circles?” Felix answers. “Thanks.”   


Peter hums and starts to cut them. He sort of tunes out the others and their discussions, letting it all become background noise.

And least until there’s a harsh slapping sound and silence.

Then he turns around, readjusts his grip on the knife and zeroes his gaze in on Frange, who has a red handprint on her left cheek.

“What the fuck, Taylor?” Alezing demands, “What the fuck was that for?” She’s situated herself on Frange’s left side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Peter instinctively moves to Frange’s right, still holding the knife.

“She wasn’t listening! You all need to listen to me! I am the Captain of this mission! You’ll get yourselves killed if you disobey me,” Taylor yells. “I am in charge here, and if none of you can respect that, I’ll kick you off this team!”   


“If you want us to respect you, you have to respect us,” Alezing says, “And that is NOT respect,” she shouts, gesturing to the red mark on Frange’s face. “We could report you to Coulson for this.”   


“But you won’t, will you? Because if you do, I’ll kill you!” Taylor shrieks. “I will, I will!”

“Jesus Christ,” Someone mutters. “Someone contact Coulson, or Fury.”

Felix nods. “On it. Someone should restrain him.”   


“I don’t need restraining! Are you all fucking insane?” Taylor yells, and it’s bordering on hysterical.

“I think you’re the one who’s insane,” Frange spits. “What the fuck were you thinking? This is enough to get you fired.”   


“You know who’s gonna fire?” Taylor says. His voice is getting higher in pitch. “Me! Me, I’m gonna fire!” And then he’s pulling out one of his shotguns and firing and the bullet hits Peter in th the leg and he falls to his knees and it feels kind of like burning, but not and he thinks the bullet is still in him and he can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not.

“Holy shit!” Someone shouts and then they’re attaching handcuffs to Taylor’s wrists and forcing him to his knees and pulling the guns away.

“Get Coulson on the phone!” Someone else yells.

“He’s on the phone!” Felix yells back.

“We need med attention right now!” Someone else, Peter thinks it’s the other pilot, “Like, now! He needs surgery!”   


Everything is going sort of blurry. He can still hear everything, or at least, he’s trying to. Trying to make sense of it all. Everyone sounds kind of panicked and that isn’t a good thing for a SHIELD agent to be.

“There’s a base ten minutes away,” Someone declares. Peter is having trouble distinguishing one voice from another. “Coulson’s called ahead, we have permission to land there. They’ll give Peter med attention, and take Taylor into custody.”   


“Great. Thanks, Carr. I’ll go put us in gear,” someone says, and Peter sees them heading towards the cockpit and decides that must make it Agent Long, because Taylor is still in cuffs and Frange is still beside Peter.

Peter’s brain is beginning to feel like it’s stuffed with cotton wool. Then he realises how tired he is, and how fuzzy everything is. Maybe things would be better if he just.. Closed his eyes.. Just for a bit.

So he does.

 

*

 

When he wakes up, he’s in a slightly stiff bed in a room that’s the same white and grey and navy as all SHIELD med bays.

The windows have the SHIELD eagle logo on, which ultimately confirms his SHIELD suspicions. There’s also the fact that there’s a cluster of SHIELD agents around his bed, including Coulson and Gwen.

“Oh, Peter!” Gwen exclaims. “Thank God!”

“What happened?” Peter asks, grimacing at how thick his mouth feels.

“Agent Taylor,” Coulson says grimly. “I’m so sorry, Peter. If I had known he would do this, I would never have permitted him on this operation.”   


The operation! The mission! His brain still feels a little cloudy, but he can dig around in his recent memories, and comes up with nuclear bombs, and guns, and drawing pictures of his old home room teacher.

“How do you feel?” Someone asks. Agent Frange. Frange!

“I’m- I’m okay,” he manages. “Are we taking up the mission again?”

“We are,” Frange says. “You’re not. Sorry, Parker. But you’re staying here for a week, and then you’re on bed rest for another. You got shot in the leg, you’re not going anywhere.”   


“But- but-”   


“No buts, Parker. We’ll assign you something else, you can take it up after your exams,” Coulson says.

Peter sighs. “Fine. What happened to Taylor? And which base is this?”

“He’s awaiting trial,” Coulson explains. “We won’t let him get away with this. If he does end up coming back, he’ll be at the bottom of the food chain and under supervision at all times.”

“We won’t have to take any more missions with him?” Peter asks.

“No one will,” Coulson says firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Okay,” Peter says. His fingers fist themselves in the navy undersheets of the SHIELD cot. It’s not the most comfortable place he’s ever slept, but it’s medical so he’s not sure what he expected. Looking around, he realises there’s only one other bed in his room, and it’s unoccupied, which makes him feel slightly better.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a doctor coming to check on him once he woke up?” Agent Long asks. 

“There is,” Coulson says. “I’ll go find someone.”

Gwen watches as Coulson walks out, and then as soon as he’s gone, she leaps onto the hospital bed, crossing her legs at the end of Peter’s feet. She rests her hands on his shins through the blankets. “How are you really feeling?”

“Like I just got shot,” Peter says truthfully. “How about you?”

“Worried sick, you fucking asshole,” Gwen grumbles. “Going off and getting yourself shot.”   


“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Peter protests.

Gwen smiles. “I guess not. Oh, Agent Alison made you get well soon cupcakes. Apparently it’s a thing. Someone’s first gunshot wound, and they get get well soon cupcakes. Missy Kallenback also came by with a bunch of flowers as big as her ego, but I told her to fuck off and take the flowers with her.”   


Peter smiles gratefully. “Thank you.”   


“No, thank you,” Gwen says, “It was my genuine pleasure. She is a bit of an asshole, isn’t she? She’s an alright agent, though, I read up on her mission history. Oh, by the way, I have all of your revision work.”   


“I was only gone for a day!” Peter says “You can’t have that much.”   


“You were out for a day too. So you have two days worth to catch up on,” Gwen says.

“Still can’t be that much,” Peter shrugs. “But I guess if I have to be on bed rest for a week, I’ll have loads of time to do it, won’t I?”

“Yes, you will,” Gwen says. “MJ wishes she could come, by the way, but she’s got mission paper work to write up. She’ll be here tomorrow or the day after.”   


“Will we be able to move back to the medbay at Sci-tech?” Peter asks.

Gwen glances at Frange, who shrugs. “I don’t see why not. They’ll probably keep you here for three days, tops, just to make sure there’s no chance of the stitches breaking or something. There’s more resources, after all. But after that, you should be free to move to Sci-tech as long as you’re careful. Then bed rest at the Academy too,” Frange says. 

“Would you visit me?” Peter asks.

“Of course I would,” Frange says. “We have more pictures to draw, don’t we?”   


Someone else starts to say something but they’re cut off by a blaring alarm. Coulson comes running back into the room and Peter’s heart monitor spikes as the alarm sends a jolt of adrenaline through his systems.

“What’s going on?” Gwen asks, over the alarm. She’s still sitting on Peter’s bed, but hops off as soon as a whole team of nurses rush into the room and start prepping the other bed.

“I have no idea,” Coulson says. “But I would try to stay out of it, if you can. I’m sure we’ll find out soon.”   


Someone else, dressed in a charcoal suit, comes in and pulls Coulson out with a firm grip. Peter watches through the open door as the new agent shoves a clipboard at Coulson. Coulson pales after reading the first sentence.

Which makes Peter’s heart thump wildly in his chest, because if it makes Coulson go pale, it must be bad. 

The alarm is still blaring, but everyone else is silent. Peter can’t really hear anything other than the alarm, and his heart monitor, and the squeaking of wheels. Which tells him someone is being wheeled this way. Which makes the heart monitor beep a little quicker, but he can't bring himself to feel embarrassed about it. 

Gwen reaches over and takes his hand. Then she gasps, and so does Frange, because the new person is being wheeled in. Peter can’t see who it is, but Frange and Gwen’s reactions aren’t very reassuring.

Peter catches his first glimpse of the guy as they roll him onto the bed, but all he can see is mottled red skin. Once he’s lying on the bed, though, Peter sits up and finally sees everything.

The guy is asleep, or looks to be. There’s ugly red scar tissue covering parts of his body, from what Peter can see only the right side of his face is clear. The scars look like they’re moving, though, which is 1, weird, and 2, cool.

All of the nurses flutter around the guy once more, before one shouts, “Pulse!” And they all stand back.

Peter would like to say he didn’t jump when the guy sits bolt upright. But he does, and Gwen swears, and Coulson sighs from outside the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we like frange and felix. we hate taylor. capiche?
> 
> also very sorry to the person who wanted to see peter dismantle a nuke. maybe another time? 
> 
> apparently im churning this fic out faster than i expected. next update expected to be within a week.
> 
> this one is like 500 words shorter than the previous two. but whatever. i stopped at a good place, right? also any mistakes made are my own- the only proof reading i do is the proofing when im making sure it all fits the way i want it to. that means i dont do much. so feel free to point out any mistakes in the comments and ill try to fix them.
> 
> comment if you like it! pls guys validate me
> 
> ive had a couple of people on other fics ask how they can be my friend, so i thought id add here. if you want to contact me, im more often than not, on tumblr. now, one day, i will be able to add links into my notes. but for now, we have to settle for ; my tumblr is spideysstark


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> peter opens up a bit. he's also kind of in love, and deadpool is becoming his friend much faster than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy! also there'll be a question in the end notes pertaining to updates and stuff, so please please answer it, thank you!

Sitting in a room with about ten people, all of whom are holding their breath and squeezing your hand, does wonders for Peter’s apprehension levels.

The guy doesn’t talk at first, just stares around until his gaze lands on Peter. Then he wolf whistles, and Peter blushes.

“Mr Wilson, none of that, please,” Coulson says.

“None of what, boss man?” Wilson asks, grinning.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Coulson says mildly. “You know full well that if we could, we’d have you in a separate room.”   


“One with padded walls maybe? Geez, your hospitality never fails to make me blush,” Wilson says. “Just don’t forget the lube. Gotta pass the time somehow, right?”

Gwen makes a little choking noise in the back of her throat. Which makes Wilson laugh.

“Did I embarrass you, sugar?” He leers.

Gwen swallows and stares back defiantly. “You wish. If you weren’t in a hospital bed right now, I’d have knocked you unconscious yesterday.”   


“Well, hey, I’m in a hospital bed. You can do it anyway, if you want,” Wilson shrugs. “Gives me somewhere soft to land. Not that it’ll bother me but- Christ, Yellow, shut up, I’m trying to have a conversation here,” Then he starts pounding on the right side of his head.

Peter didn’t think he had a thing for insane immortals. But here we are.

 

*

 

“I’m Deadpool, by the way,” Wilson says, nearly an hour later. Everyone’s vacated their room in the search of a meal, leaving Peter with Deadpool.

“Hm. Peter,” Peter says.

Deadpool frowns. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“No, not really,” Peter says. He’s staring at the sunset out the window. Which is really hard to look through because the window is really tiny and really high up.

“Wow. No wonder they bunked me with you- White, I’m not going to  _ tell him _ !”

“What?” Peter says, vaguely noting that Deadpool said something that wasn’t addressed to him.

“What what?” Deadpool says flippantly. 

“Who’s White? And Yellow, you mentioned that earlier,” Peter asks.

“No one,” Deadpool says, sort of too quickly. “Did they seriously not tell you who I am?”

“I have no idea who you are,” Peter says honestly. “But the way you says it makes me think there’s something everyone else knows about you that I don’t.”   


“I’m secretly Lady Gaga,” Deadpool says. “That’s what everyone’s hiding from you,” then, quieter, “No, White, I’m not going to tell him who I am. He doesn’t know! He could actually be a friend.”   


“What was that?” Peter asks, pretending not to hear.

“Nothing,” Deadpool says. “Lady Gaga. Actually, I should have gone with Beyonce, that’s much more believable.”   


“Is it?” Peter says.

“Wait till you see me in heels, baby boy,” Deadpool says. 

“That insinuates that one day I will see you in heels,” Peter says.

“Are you declining my invitation?”

“Well, I hardly know you well enough,” Peter says. “I don’t even know your name.”   


“Yes, you do. It’s Dead-”   


“Even I’m not stupid enough to believe your first name is Deadpool, Deadpool,” Peter interrupts. “What’s your actual name?”

“Raincheck,” Deadpool says. Then he stops talking to Peter, and starts muttering to himself, and Peter realises that the conversation isn’t including him any more.

 

*

 

Its actually kind of nice sharing a room with a man who talks to himself.

It means Peter doesn’t always have to have the television on to block out the silence, because Deadpool mutters to himself approximately every five minutes.

The downside is Deadpool doesn’t really know when to stop talking.

Like, seriously. Peter won’t reply to him for five minutes and Deadpool doesn’t even notice. He just keeps harping on about this and that and guns and I need to have a quick wank, you know what I mean?

No, Peter thinks, no I really don’t know what you mean, and I don’t think I want to know.

Deadpool is confusing, and funny, and talks entirely too much. He also seems to know more about Peter than Peter knows about Deadpool, which is a little bit weird and makes Peter a teensy bit jealous. But he’s trying not to push. Even though hearing Deadpool go “So, how’s your aunt?” kind of makes Peter want to punch him.

“My aunt is fine,” He says stiffly, and thankfully Deadpool picks up that that is all Peter will divulge on that particular subject.

Then the conversation twists to, “So why are you in hospital?”   


Peter says, “Why are you? I know enough about Deadpool to know that you have a crazy stupid healing enhancement, and that you probably could have left forty five minutes after they brought you in. So why are you here?”

“Keeping you company, silly,” Deadpool says. “You wouldn’t believe the real reason- No, I’m not saying it’s because I masturbated too hard, Yellow, what the fuck?”

“I might believe it,” Peter says. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

That seems to shut Deadpool up for a second. “Don’t you think you should buy me a drink first?”

Peter responds by throwing the plastic cup of water on his bedside cabinet over Deadpool.

“Well, that works,” Deadpool huffs, grinning. “Fine. I’m here because they don’t want to put me in a jail cell but they still want me under observation. I assume they’ve all said that if they could put you in a single room, they would, and how they all feel so super sorry for you that you’re stuck with me.”

Peter nods. “They have said that. Why do they want you under observation?”

“Because- Yellow, for God’s sake, masturbation isn’t the answer to everything!- do you seriously not know what I do?” Deadpool asks.

“Oh,” Peter says. “I’ve heard a bit. You’re kind of infamous here at SHIELD.”   


“Oh, goodie!” Deadpool squeals. “That’s nearly as good as being properly famous, right?”   


“If it helps you sleep at night,” Peter says.

Deadpool ignores that. “So why are you here?”

“Bullet wound,” Peter says after a moment. “I think they probably want me under observation too, though. I climbed out of a plane to fix the cannons mid fight.”   


“That’s so badass,” Deadpool gasps. “I’m so jealous. I wish I could have done that. I wish I could have seen that!”   


“Agent Coulson has footage of it somewhere,” Peter says.

“No way! Really? Really really?”

“Really really really,” Peter nods.

“So where’d you get the bullet wound?” Deadpool asks. If Peter wasn’t already used to it with Gwen and Ned, he’d be getting whiplash from how fast Deadpool changed tracks.

“I was supposed to be going on a mission. My first overseas one. The Captain of the mission was an asshole, he hit my friend when she wouldn’t do what he said, even though it was, like, wrong. So he went a little bit crazy and shot me when I tried to help her,” Peter says. “He’s in SHIELD custody now, though. Apparently hitting and shooting a teammate goes against the code of conduct.”   


Deadpool staring at Peter with wide eyes. “You are so cool.”   


“I’m not even a proper agent yet,” Peter waves away the compliment. “Oh, shit. My exams. I need to revise for them.”   


“Dude, you’re in hospital because the captain of your team shot you in the leg. I think they’ll cut you some slack.”   


Peter shakes his head. “No, I’ll be fine. I can take them, I just need to- Just need to revise. I can revise. I’m not going to be going anywhere for the next week or so, anyway.”   


Deadpool shrugs. “Do what you wanna do. Just remember, I’m not helping you make flash cards. How old are you, anyway? You look, like, twelve.”   


“I’m twenty two,” Peter huffs, grappling around for his phone. Then he groans when he tries to turn it on and realises it’s out of charge. Of course, he hasn’t charged it for the past who knows how long, one, because Deadpool is actually really interesting to listen to, and two, the brightness of it was hurting his eyes. 

“What’re you groaning for? And you don’t look twenty two, you look twelve. Can you even drive?” Deadpool asks.

“I’m groaning because my phone needs charging, so I can’t get Gwen to send me some revision work. And I can’t drive, because I live in New York City. There’s the subway, and cabs, and buses, and everything. I don’t need to drive,” Peter says.

“Want to use my phone? You’re a SHIELD agent, so I’m assuming you know her number off by heart,” Deadpool suggests.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll wait for mine to charge,” Peter says. “She won’t pick up if she doesn’t recognise the number. And if she does pick up, it’ll only be after she’s done an extensive background search on you.”   


“Oh, like she hasn’t done that already,” Deadpool scoffs. “I’m not blind, I know how they all look at me. Like a time bomb, or something, that’s just waiting to blow up in their faces. She loves you, there’s no way she’d let you stay in this room with me if she didn’t know who I was. And honestly, I’m a little surprised she hasn’t demanded you be moved somewhere else already.”   


“She knows I can make my own decisions,” Peter says. “She doesn’t control me. If I’m uncomfortable in here, then I’ll say so, but for now you’re stuck with me.”   


“I could think of so many worse things to be stuck with,” Deadpool murmurs.

“Are you saying you don’t want to be stuck with me?” Peter asks.

“Hell no, I’m not. Being stuck with you sounds like a dream come true,” says Deadpool. “I would love to be stuck with you.”   


“Good, then. Unless either of us is uncomfortable, we can stay here,” Peter reasons.

They both sort of go quiet after that. Peter is thinking about Gwen and trying not to stare at Deadpool.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Deadpool asks after ten minutes of silence (which feels a bit like the record of the most consecutive minutes he’s stayed quiet, to Peter).

“Who, Gwen?”

“No, Coulson,” Deadpool says. “Yes, Gwen. I thought you were at the Science school, aren’t you supposed to be smart to get in there?”

“I’m not dating Coulson, or Gwen,” Peter says firmly. “And I got into Sci-Tech because my friends and I hacked the SHIELD secure databases when we were in high school.”   


“And these friends wouldn’t happen to be Gwen, would they?”

“And MJ, Ned, and Harry,” Peter hums.

“When you were in high school?” Deadpool asks.

“We were all seventeen, so about five years ago now,” Peter says.

“No wonder SHIELD hired you right away. They like having the smart ones,” Deadpool says. 

“I wouldn’t say I’m smart,” Peter protests.

“Kid, if you hacked SHIELD at seventeen, you’re a fucking genius.”   


“I’m not a kid,” Peter says, sounding a little bit like one.

“Alright, Pipsqueak,” Deadpool says.

“Fuck off,” Peter tells him.

 

*

 

Deadpool is actually really funny. He’s able to reference To Kill A Mockingbird and High School Musical in the same sentence (which Peter appreciates). His sense of humor is somewhat centered around genitalia and that you’d expect of a five year old, but he also makes really complex jokes that Peter probably wouldn’t have gotten were he not a self proclaimed genius. 

Like seriously, jokes that take him five minutes to set up, five minutes to tell, and Peter five minutes to get. But they do end up being really, really funny. Which makes being stuck in hospital for a week a lot more bearable. 

Sure, his friends visit. Gwen comes by for ten minutes every morning, before heading to classes or training sessions, and and hour and a half in the evenings, when she brings meals and work for Peter. Coulson sometimes pops in over lunch time, and Frange comes with him, but they’re both full time SHIELD agents who can’t find time to make a cup of coffee, let alone visit him.

Which is fine. He has Deadpool for company.

Deadpool, who turns out to be the most amusing person Peter has probably ever spoken to. With the exception of MJ, partly because she's terrifying, and partly because she and Deadpool have the same sense of humor.

"Peter?" Coulson says, knocking on the door and thoroughly ignoring Deadpool. "Frange brought lunch."

"Agent Alison made salted caramel cupcakes," Frange says, pushing past Coulson to dump a purple box on the bedside table.

"Salted caramel?" Peter repeats, winkling his nose. "I don't like salted caramel."

"Heathen," Frange whispers, before shrugging. "Whatever. More for me, I guess."

"I like salted caramel," Deadpool pipes up. "Although I don't know Agent Alison. And if you give me one of those cupcakes and it ends up being spiked with cyanide, I won't be happy.

"Why would it be cyanide?" Frange asks.

"What else would you use? What other poisons do you have access to?" Deadpool asks.

"We're SHIELD. We have access to anything we want," Coulson says. "And you won't be getting one of these cupcakes. They're for Peter."

"Did you not just hear? Peter doesn't like them," Deadpool says.

Peter shrugs. "Deadpool can have them."

"Peter, are you sure that's a good idea?" Frange asks.

Peter probably sounds a bit too defensive, but he says, "They're for me, right? I say Deadpool can have one. He's been keeping me company for the past few days, I can at least repay him in cupcakes."

Deadpool grins. 

Coulson sighs. "Sure, Agent Parker. Whatever you want to do with them. We can only stay for a few minutes, Director Fury won't be happy to find out I've been sneaking Frange out of paperwork to come and see you."

"What? You could get in trouble?" Peter exclaims. "Because of me? Nope. No way, you don't have to stay. You can go back if you want. I don't want you to get in trouble because you're spending all your time with me."

"We'll be fine," Frange says. "Stop worrying. Hey, guess what?"

"What?"

"You can move back to the Sci-Tech Academy tomorrow, if you want to," she says, grinning. "Get you away from you know who."

Peter frowns, feigning confusion. "Who?"

Frange very obviously darts her eyes towards Deadpool.

Peter grimaces. "Why would I want to leave Deadpool? He's been keeping me company."

"Do you even know his first name, Peter?" Coulson asks. "What he does?"

Peter shakes his head. "No. And I'm going to wait until he wants to tell me. I'm not going to betray his trust by hacking into the databases again and finding it out myself. Even though I could - isn't it time for the routine firewall safety checks?"

Coulson frowns at him. "Sass doesn't suit you, Agent Parker."

"I think it does," Deadpool says, "Can I have a cupcake now?"

Peter waves his hand in lazy affirmation. "Go wild."

"Right, then," Coulson says, glancing at his watch so quickly he couldn't have read the time even if he tried. "We should be off."

Frange stands to go too, sending a pitiful glance Peter's way, and mouthing 'Stockholm syndrome is never a good thing,' at him.

Peter just glares at her, and wishes that he could actually, like, properly move his legs so he can roll over away from the door. And from Deadpool, because he can feel the other man's eyes following him.

"What?" Peter grumbles eventually.

"What what?"

"Why are you staring at me?"

"Why did you defend my honor?" Deadpool says. "You didn't have to. God knows I've had to put up with enough of that sort of thing to be used to it by now."

"You shouldn't have to be used to it," Peter says. "That's horrible."

Deadpool just shrugs. Peter hears the bedsheets move.

"Why are you still here?" Peter asks. "You could have left two days ago now. I know you're fine."

"Do you really think they'll let me leave?" Deadpool asks.

"They should."

"They won't."

Peter sighs. "I think sometimes I begin to regret coming to work here, you know?"

"How so?" Deadpool asks.

"The way they treat some of the agents, some of the civilians. Some of the supers. Its disgusting," He says.

Deadpool scoffs. "Most of us supers are used to it, kid."

"That's what I'm trying to say, you shouldn't have to be!" Peter exclaims. "And I'm not a kid."

"I know," Deadpool says. "But you do look really short."

"Compact," Peter protests.

"Whatever floats your boat, baby boy," Deadpool hums.

Peter just huffs and stares at the ceiling for a minute. "Why do you call me that?" He asks eventually.

"What, kid?"

"No, the other one."

"Baby boy?" Deadpool chuckles when Peter nods. "I'm a nick name-r. It's my thing. So tell me, Peter SHIELD Agent Parker. Are you a super?"

Peter almost chokes. "Me? A super? Seriously?"

"Well, you do look a little bit like the Spider-man from Earth - 120703. Yellow, shush, he can't be."

"Earth - 120703?" Peter repeats. "What's that?"

"Alternative universe," Deadpool says promptly. "I've travelled to a couple of them, using my not so trusty-" he gestures in the general direction of the door. "-Teleport. Which SHIELD took when I came here. But still."

"What happens on 120703?" Peter asks.

"You become a superhero slash vigilante called Spider-man," Deadpool explains. "You make a whole costume out of spandex and stuff, and you make webs and web shooters, and then you fight, like, three baddies who are all crazy nasty. But you win, and look like a badass doing it."

"Does that mean that there are more than one earth out there?" Peter asks, kind of ignoring what Deadpool said and filing it away to think about at a later date.

Deadpool shrugs. "Yeah, I guess. I've only been to a couple of them. But there's probably more."

"I wonder if there's a way to get to them."

"I already told you. My teleporter."

"Then one SHIELD took?" Peter asks, ignoring Deadpool's "So you do listen!"

Peter frowns, mentally running over all kinds of calculations in his head. "I need to talk to Gwen about this."

"I'm sure you do," Deadpool says. "But there's only a ten percent chance she'll come in here when I'm still here, so you have to make do with me."

"It's not making do. Besides, if you've already travelled between worlds, I guess you'll know more than she does," Peter says. "I think I'd love to be able to jump between dimensions."

"Well, you get that leg fixed up and keep paying me in cupcakes, and I might just take you for a ride," Deadpool says.

"Are you flirting with me?" Peter asks.

"Do you want me to?"

"I don't think so, no," Peter says. Lies. "Sorry."

Deadpool shrugs. "I wasn't flirting, by the way. I'm pretty obvious when I flirt. Unless you're the most oblivious person in oblivious town."

"If I'm oblivious, wouldn't I be oblivious to how oblivious I am?" Peter asks.

"This conversation is making my brain hurt," Deadpool says. "You just used oblivious far too many times in a sentence to be healthy."

"I'm currently lying in bed with a bullet wound in my leg," Peter says. "I can afford to be unhealthy for at least another day."

"Be unhealthy as long as you like," Deadpool encourages. "You look like you could probably burn off any calories you put on anyway."

Peter laughs. "I very much doubt that."

"Hey, you may not have indestructible skin, but you look like you could dodge a bullet pretty well," Deadpool says.

"I'm not really sure that's the sort of thing you should be motivating me with," Peter says.

"Eh. You're a SHIELD agent, it's not like you don't already know it, is it?"

"Huh. Good point."

Peter reaches out to click the television on then, because Deadpool is muttering to Yellow and White (and Peter still doesn't know who they are).

"My name, by the way," Deadpool says suddenly. "It's Wade."

"Oh- You don't have to tell me that," Peter says.

"Bit late for that now, isn't it? Unless you'd kindly like to go and unhear me just tell you my name is Wade. Besides, White said it's a good idea if I ever want you to properly be my friend," Wade says.

"I would be your friend whether you wanted me to call you Wade or Deadpool," Peter says.

"What if I wanted you to call me 'Anal destroyer 3000'?"

"Then I would ask you if you were positive, and only call you it in private," Peter says.

Wade laughs. "I haven't told you who Yellow and White are yet either, have I?"

"You don't have to," Peter says hurriedly.

"I know I don't," Wade says. "But I think I should probably tell you who I am before things get too far. I'd rather save myself the heartbreak if you end up running when I tell you in like, six months."

"Who says I'm going to be running away?"

"Oh, baby boy. After hearing this, you won't want to be within ten feet of me," Wade says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this chapter is 3k (as opposed to my usual 5k) and i was just wondering if you guys would prefer shorter chapters (2-3k) and quicker updates (like every other day or so?) or longer chapters (5-7k) and slower updates (like 1-2 weeks)? because i can do either, this story is writing itself faster than i expected, but i was curious as to which one you guys would prefer.
> 
> also also please leave a comment about whether you liked this, if not about an updating schedule. i need the ongoing confirmation that people enjoy me.
> 
> also i know coulson is kiiiiind of a dick in this?? i dont mean to make him one it just kind of happened and hes being very protective over peter. like the dad you never wanted. i dont know.
> 
> i also dont really know how i feel about this chapter? i dont know its basically just peter and wade fluff. so i guess. filler?
> 
> check me up on tumblr if you want @spideysstark


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> backstory, gwen cares a lot, wade cares too much. also cuddles. they cuddled. its cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy!
> 
> bold = yellow  
> italics = white
> 
> also, at the end of this chapter, wade kills himself. its temporary, because its wade, and not really very detailed. but i thought id put a note just in case you dont want to read it. dont skip all the way to the end, though, because theres a little bit of peter and gwen just at the very very end.

“How do you know that?” Peter demands. “How do you know I won’t want to be near you?”

Wade just smiles pitifully, and gestures to the scars covering the left side of his face. They run all the way down the left side of his body, too. Peter can see them tapering out on his hands, even though he’s wearing a long sleeved shirt with the sleeves wrapped around his palms. “No one has ever wanted to stick around after finding out what caused this. I have baggage, sweetie-Petey. A lot of it.”   


Peter shrugs. “Don’t we all?”

“Peter-”   


“Don’t try to tell me how I’m going to react to this, okay? You’re human, aren’t you? That’s all that matters to me. I don’t care if you have some fucked up mutation that means you turn into a rainbow lizard every full moon,” Peter says, “If you’re still human, I don’t care.”   


Wade sighs. “Transforming into a rainbow lizard werewolf hybrid would be cooler than this. Okay, I guess we’ll start at the beginning.”   


“That’s a very good place to start,” Peter says.

“Okay, you can’t reference The Sound of Music when I’m telling you my very tragic backstory,” Wade says.

“Right, sorry.”

“Okay, look,” Wade says. “I’m starting from the actual very beginning, because that way maybe you won’t judge my decisions too hard. But when I say beginning, I mean  _ beginning _ .”

“Okay,” Peter nods. “When you’re ready.”   


Wade takes a deep breath. “Okay, so. Dead mom, abusive dad. Went into military for a bit, then became a.. Mercenary. But I only killed, you know, assholes. Like rapists. And other murderers. Spent three years in Asia as a wrestler after I broke up with my then girlfriend. Came back to the US, fell in love with a fucking prostitute. Dumped her after I got diagnosed with cancer. Then I became a test subject in some sketchy superhuman enhancement program. They injected me with a healing thing derived from Wolverine’s- you know him?”

“I know of him,” Peter confirms.

“Okay. Well, they injected me with something like that and it must have unlocked my own mutation or something. Or it might have been the torture that did that, you know? Anyway, there was a fire, I escaped with these bullshit scars, no friends and some healing factor that kept my body from killing me.”   


Peter tries not to gasp, but it doesn’t work.

“Anyway, the torture, or whatever it was, because it could have been worse. Anyway, as well as unlocking my mutation, it unlocked the voices in my head. Yellow, and White. They call themselves the boxes- Shush, Yellow, it was totally you who started that!”   


“That’s.. That’s terrible, Wade. I’m sorry. So is that why the want you under observation? So you don’t-”   


“Fly off the hook?” Wade suggests. “Probably. Also why they keep apologising for having you in here too. They don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Excuse me, I was in here first,” Peter sniffs. “Besides. I don’t think you’ll hurt me. If you wanted to, I’d be dead already.”   


Wade makes a face. “Well, at least you pick things up quickly.”   


Peter huffs. “I trust you.”

Wade scoffs. “Now that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, maybe, ever.”

“Seriously, Wade. I- Thank you for telling me all that.”   


“But you can’t tell anyone else, okay? I’m aware SHIELD probably has security cams on us constantly, but they don’t always have audio on. They only know that I killed people, and that I have a healing enhancement. I’m probably, nearly immortal, you know? But they don’t know that. And they don’t need to know that. If they did, they would probably want to take me apart and put me back together. And I can’t deal with being a home experiment again. So if you tell anyone, I actually will kill you and I won’t feel any remorse.”   


Peter should probably feel scared. At least, more scared than he does. But he doesn’t. He just darts his eyes towards the door, and then towards the security camera in the top left corner of the room. Then he says, “I really want to hug you right now.”

Wade bursts into laughter. “I don’t think anyone has hugged me since, maybe, ‘94?”

Peter grimaces, before sliding out of his bed as slow as he dared. His leg twinges as he pulls the stitches and the adhesive dressings pull on the hair on his calf. But he doesn’t wince (well, okay. Maybe a little bit.)   


“Parker, are you sure you should be walking on your leg right now?” Wade asks, sounding hesitant.

“Shush,” Peter grunts out, because ah, yep, that actually really fucking hurts. “I’m fine.”   


“Peter, I can literally see the pain in your eyes- your mouth is doing that thing where it wrinkles up so you don’t scream, you fucking idiot.”   


“I’m fine,” Peter bites out, hobbling over to Wade’s bed and then collapsing onto it.

Wade lets out a soft ‘oof’ as Peter lands on his chest, put tucks his hands under Peter’s armpits to pull him up into a more comfortable position. Peter huffs out a sharp breath before finally relaxing next to Wade. 

 

*

 

Somehow, Peter falls asleep in Wade’s bed. Moving with a bullet wound takes a lot out of you, apparently, and Wade is really warm and the right combination of hard and soft. He sleeps better than he has in a while.

He wakes up, however, when Gwen comes storming in and promptly screams, “What the FUCK?!”

He jerks in Wade’s arms (when did that happen?) and glares at her. “What?”

“What are you doing?!” Gwen shrills, her voice still painfully high and just as loud.

“Can you lower your voice?” Peter asks.

Gwen frowns but nods. Then, quieter, “What are you doing?”

“I was sleeping.”   


“With- with Deadpool!” Gwen hisses. “Deadpool! You know who he is, what he’s done?”

“Um, yes. We had a nice discussion about it last night,” Peter says.

“And you’re still wrapped up in his arms? He could kill you right now, Peter.”

“If he wanted me dead, I would already be six feet under, Gwen,” Peter says. “Look, he’s fine. He’s harmless.”   


“I’m actually not,” Wade says, making Peter jump. “But thanks for defending my honor, honey bunch.”

Gwen’s eyes bug out. “Are you guys..?”

“Fucking?” Wade says.

“I was gonna say together,” Gwen says. “But sure. Are you?”

Peter shakes his head. “No. We’re not.”   


“And you’re still cuddling like a pair of octopuses?” Gwen asks. Peter nods, and she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Okay. I can’t- I can’t process this right now. I’ll come back later.”   


Then she just frowns and backs out of the room.

Wade starts laughing as soon as she leaves. 

Peter just smiles and pinches Wade’s left bicep. “She looked kind of terrified.”   


“She’s not homophobic, is she?” Wade asks.

“No! No, she’s not. If she was, I would have punched seven of her teeth out by now.”   


“Why only seven?” Wade asks.

“Well, she’s got to eat somehow, right?” Peter says, frowning.

“You, baby boy, are too nice for your own good.”

“I’m not a savage, Wade,” Peter says, but the effect is ruined by the way he’s still squashed in Wade’s arms.

“Never said you were, snuggle bug,” Wade says, grinning.   


Peter finds himself falling a little bit more in love with Wade every time he smiles.

 

*

 

Peter is almost painfully small. He would be so easy to just crush.

_ Maybe we should do it,  _ White says,  _ You know, before this comes back to bite us in the ass. _

**He’s got a point. We’ll hurt him, or  he’ll hurt us soon,** Yellow adds.

“Shut up,” Wade mutters.

“Hm? What was that?” Peter asks, tilting his head so he can meet Wade’s eyes.

“Nothing,” Wade says quickly. Peter frowns. “Boxes,” he amends.

Peter nods in sort of understanding. Wade can see it in his eyes, how he doesn’t really get it, but he’s trying to. It makes Wade feel kind of fuzzy, because no one’s tried to understand him like that before.

_ You’re going soft. _

“Shut up, White,” Wade whispers, quieter this time.

_ We should get away from him as soon as we can. We’ve already told him he shouldn’t trust us. He’ll want to run, so we should run first. _

**If he wants to run, why is he hugging us?** Yellow asks.

“Got a point,” Wade allows.

_ Obviously he feels sorry for us. He’s trying to soften the blow when he does leave. _

“He can hardly get out of bed,” Wade mutters, “Where’s he going?”

_ Well, you heard them. He’s allowed back to the Sci-Tech Academy. How much do you want to bet that we won’t be allowed? _

**Now that is a very solid point, Wade.**

“Jesus, Yellow, who’s side are you on?”   


**Not yours,** Yellow says snidely.  **Not White’s either. I’m on my own side.**

_ Alright, then. We need to leave,  _ White says.

**Oh, but look at how cute he is! How warm and cuddly!** Yellow whines.

“Either you want to stay or not, Yellow,” Wade grumbles. “Make up your mind.”   


“Stay?” Peter asks, frowning sleepily.

“Sorry, Petey. I thought you’d fallen back asleep,” Wade says softly. Yellow and White have gone silent.

“What did you mean stay or not?” Peter asks. “What’s Yellow saying?”

“Nothing, care bear. Nothing.”   


“Sure seemed like something,” Peter mumbles. “I think you should stay, for all it’s worth.”   


Yellow squeals inside Wade’s head.  **He wants us! He wants us to stay! Oh, I’m in love!**

_ Shut up, idiot. He’s tired and drugged up. I doubt he actually wants us. Who could want this? _

Wade sighs, because okay, harsh. But true. So he breathes out heavily, and Peter squirms closer.

“Well, boys,” Wade says, automatically putting his arms around Peter again. “I think we’re screwed.”   


**You wish, Wilson,** Yellow says.

_ You wish too, Yellow. We share the same head. I can see you mentally undressing him, _ White says.

“Maybe we should stop mentally undressing him,” Wade suggests. “I kind of don’t think that’s a good idea right now. We just earned his trust, and I don’t really want to lose it right now, you know?”

_ I don’t know why, or how, we earned his trust. He’s probably pitying us. _

“I know, White. I know. But let me pretend for tonight and then I’ll let you plan how we can get away tomorrow,” Wade says.

_ You’re going soft,  _ White says.  _ But fine. One night. _

**Sounds like you’re going soft too, Whitey,** Yellow teases. 

“Please don’t start fighting,” Wade mutters.

**What was that? Start fighting?**

“No, not start fighting. Yellow, you asshole, for fucks sake, please. If you at all value my sanity, don’t-”   


**Me? Value your sanity? Wade, we’re practically the embodiment of your** **_insanity._ **

_ Point. So, are we fighting? _

Yellow starts shrieking like a banshee, and Wade just sighs, resigning himself to his fate.

 

*

 

“Hey, Petey?” Wade murmurs, and Peter stirs. “Don’t you think you should go back to, you know, your own bed now? I think they’re moving you back to the Academy soon.”

“They’re what?” Peter asks, bringing a hand up to rub his eyes and feeling it scrape along Wade’s chest. Oh. Right. That happened.

“Moving you back to the Sci-Tech Academy,” Wade repeats patiently.

“Oh,” Peter hums. “Okay. Are you coming?”

“I doubt I’ll be allowed, gummy bear.”   


Peter feels his face meld into a frown. “Will you be able to visit?

“I don’t think they’ll even let me into the grounds, Peter.”   


“Well, that’s rubbish. Take my phone number, and we can go get coffee instead, then.”   


Wade chuckles. “Petey, they won’t let me see you.”   


Peter grimaces. “They can’t tell me who I see. They might be able to control my work but they can’t control my leisure activities.”   


“I know,” Wade says. “But SHIELD is a secret agency. Secret agents. There is no way they won’t find out, and when they do, they’ll issue a restraining order against me, or something. They think I’m insane, Peter, and from what I’ve seen, you’re a pretty valuable agent. They won’t want me near you.”   


“But I know you’re not insane,” Peter protests. “Besides, I need to work on my lying.”

“Come on, I’m a little bit insane. And if they find out you’re lying to them, I don’t know what they’ll do to you.”

“You’re not insane,” Peter repeats. “You’ve just had shitty things happen to you. And I don’t care. You’re my friend now, I will still want to see you.”

“I still want to see you too, Peter. But come on, I don’t know how we can make it work. Look, you should get back into your own bed. I imagine Coulson will be along soon.”   


Peter just nods once, suddenly quiet. The atmosphere has gone sort of sombre now, a little bit cold, but that could be the open window. The sun is shining directly through it, throwing a rectangle of light onto his bed.

He slips out of Wade’s bed (cold cold ow shit OW) and stumbles back into his own. He doesn’t think he’s pulled his stitches, but then again, he’s only taken the one SHIELD compulsory first aid class and that just covered the basics (recovery position, CPR, tourniquets, etc, etc.). Not bullet wounds or stitches. Which makes him think maybe he should take another one and learn about stitches.

Wade was right, because Coulson and Frange and a nurse Peter doesn’t recognise enter the room without knocking. Which makes Wade squeal.

“What if I was naked, guys? Common courtesy!”

“Shut up, Wilson,” Coulson snaps out. “Parker, you’re allowed to discharge and relocate to the Academy now. We’ll be leaving at the end of the day.”   


Its three in the afternoon now, so Peter assumes they’ll be taking off by about six. Which gives him all of three hours left with Wade.

“Okay,” he nods. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry,” Frange says. “We can make sure he stays away from you.”   


It’s not hard to figure out who ‘he’ is, and Peter turns just in time to catch Wade’s expression fall.

“That- that’s okay,” Peter says. “You don’t have to.”

Wade grins at him. He has a nice smile, Peter thinks, it makes his eyes crinkle a bit and the blue of them seem brighter. It also twists Peter’s stomach in butterflies, which is less than ideal. 

“Kid, he’s an assassin,” The nurse says. “If I could, I wouldn’t assign any of my team to him.”   


“I’m not a kid,” Peter snaps. “And why wouldn’t you?”   


“Because he could kill you with one finger,” Coulson says. “He’s dangerous. This situation has been less than ideal, and if I could, I would have removed him from the premises.”   


“Why haven’t you? He’s been fine since he woke up,” Peter asks.

“Because we-” Coulson starts.

“Because they want to keep me under observation, Petey. We discussed this!” Wade exclaims.

“I know, I know. I just wanted to hear them say it,” Peter says. “If I knew this was what SHIELD did, I never would have taken this job.”   


Coulson’s face is kind of amusing. It’s how Peter would imagine speechlessness to look like. What’s not so amusing is how betrayed Frange looks.

“Peter, listen to me. He’s insane, he’s deranged, he could have killed you the minute he woke up, and if we didn’t have to put him in here, we wouldn’t have. You’re a valuable agent, we can’t afford to lose you right now,” she says.

“Told you you were a valuable agent,”Wade mutters. Peter turns to look at him and just ends up staring. Wade is glaring at one spot on the wall, clenching and unclenching his fists in the sheets. He looks a little bit like he’s about to cry, and there’s a line folded along his forehead, which pulls at the scars, distorting them more than they already are. Peter’s heart aches for him.

“I don’t want to be just a valuable agent,” Peter says finally. “I can look after myself. I want to be a friend, too.”   


Wade looks even more like he’s about to cry now, and Peter just hopes its happy tears.

Coulson sighs, heavily. “We can’t control your actions-”   


“No matter how much you might try to,” Peter grumbles.

“But if you want us to, we can organise a life for you to retire to. You accepted this job, and we’re going to take as many precautions as possible to keep you. And Deadpool is dangerous. I assume you know this now. We need you, Parker, and your talents. Being a SHIELD agent means sometimes you have to sacrifice things,” Coulson finishes.

“I can look after myself,” Peter repeats, kind of surprised by how cold his voice is. “If I wanted a parent, I would have killed myself already.”

 

*

 

“So you got dead parents, huh?” Wade asks, once Coulson and Frange and the nurse have left.

“Hm.”   


“Dead anyone else?”

“Dead parents, dead uncle, and dying aunt,” Peter says. It sounds kind of pathetic now that he says it aloud. “I’m just glad I’m an adult now, so I don’t have to go into the system.”   


“How did it happen?” Wade asks.

“My parents died in a plane crash. My uncle was murdered in front of me, and my aunt is just.. Old age. She’s in the hospital now. I’m only allowed limited contact with her, because SHIELD is really strict on that kind of thing, you know?”

“I know. Well, I don’t know, I don’t really have anyone to have contact with. But I know,” Wade says. 

“That sounds lonely,” Peter says.

“So does having your entire family die,” Wade hums.

Peter shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m over it now.”   
  


*

 

**We can’t leave him now!** Yellow wails.  **Look how small and sad he is!** **  
**

_ We have to leave him, idiot. We don’t want to add to the small and sad do we? _

Wade manages to ignore the boxes, but only just. He does it by refusing to answer and concentrating instead on how tired Peter looks now. 

His face looks kind of waxy, like his leg is hurting him more than he lets on. Peter looks small and tired and sad, and Wade just wants to hug him, but doing so would probably end up in SHIELD finding a way to permanently kill him, and actually doing it.

Which, well, wouldn’t be a bad thing. God knows he’s been trying kill himself off for years now. Maybe letting SHIELD do it is a blessing in disguise.

**What about Petey, though? He’d be so sad! I don’t want him to be sad!**

_ He’d be even more sad if we hurt him like we hurt everyone. _

**How do you know? Maybe leaving would hurt him more.**

_ I doubt it. He probably doesn’t even care about us. _

**But we care about him!** **  
**

_ If we care about him then we need to leave. We can go drown our sorrows in blood and sex and never think about him again. _

“You have a lot of faith in our ability to not think about things, buddy,” Wade mutters.

“What was that?” Peter asks.

“Nothing,” Wade says.

Peter hums and doesn’t ask anymore.

_ We need to leave him to protect him. Besides, Coulson would never let us see him anyway. _

**But we could protect him without contact. We’ve done it before.**

_ But you wouldn’t be able to stay away, would you? And Wade is so easily led. _

“I’m not easily led!” Wade hisses.

_ You are a bit. Come on, we need to leave him to protect him. We’ll wait until Coulson comes back to take him to Sci-Tech and then escape from this place. _

**Fine. Wade?**

_ Come on, you know this is the best course of action. _

Wade sighs. “Fine.”

 

*

 

He waits until Coulson comes back. Peter hasn’t said anything else to him, so Wade hasn’t said anything either. Coulson and the pilot, Frange, don’t even look at him. Which kind of helps, because it means he can pretend not to cry in peace. Peter doesn’t look at him either.

_ See? He probably hates us now. We shouldn’t have told him our stupid fucking origin story. Why do you even call it that anyway? _

**Do you really think that? He was hugging us earlier.**

_ Pity,  _ White says.  _ Pity. That’s all it was. _

Yellow sighs, and so does Wade. 

_ We’ll wait five minutes after they’ve left the room, and then jump out the window. We can fit through there, can’t we? _

Wade grimaces at the window by Peter’s bed. It’s high up, but he can probably reach it. It’s also long horizontally, but only about twenty centimetres vertically. “You think so?”

_ It’s either that or running out among lots of people trained in self defense and carrying guns. Take your pick. _

**But we’re four floors up.**

_ We’ve jumped further before. Besides, if we land well, we’ll only break a leg and that’ll heal quickly. _

“Alright,” Wade says. His eyes track Peter as he leaves the room with Frange and Coulson. Peter doesn’t look back, doesn’t even wave. “Alright. Five minutes.”

So he waits five minutes, and no one comes in to check on him.

“Does anyone remember where they stashed my suit?”

_ Do I have to do everything around here? The suit is in the storage cupboard by the bathroom, and they’ll have taken all our weapons. _

“So ideally, we need to go through all the people with guns to get back my guns,” Wade says.

_ Kind of, yes. _

**I thought you were saying we shouldn’t do that.**

_ I am saying we shouldn’t do that. But if we don’t, we won’t have any weapons or anything. _

“And we can’t leave Bea and Arthur, can we?”

**We can’t!** Yellow squeals.

_ I know we can’t,  _ White snaps.  _ Deep breaths, then. Don’t get us killed. _

Wade huffs out an exaggerated breath, and stands up off the bed. He clenches and unclenches his fists twice and walks over to the closet by the ensuite bathroom. His suit, like White said, is inside, and he pulls it on quickly. “How long do you think it’ll take them to realise we’re gone?”

_ Twenty seconds,  _ White says.  _ There is a camera in this room. _

Right. Wade turns and glares at it. Then, in a spur of recklessness, raises his middle finger to it and sprints out of the room.

_ Idiot! Why the hell did you do that? _

“Fun,” Wade puffs, skidding past rooms and heading into the stairwell. “Does anyone know where weapon storage is?”

_ I thought you’d memorised the blueprints of every SHIELD facility. _

“Well, I did. But what if they’ve moved things around?”

_ Just go to the place it last was!  _ White exclaims.  _ God. _

Wade scoffs inside his head and jumps down an entire flight of stairs, and then another. The nearest weapon storage room is on the second floor, if he remembers correctly. No one’s started after him yet, but its only a matter of time, so he speeds up, leaping into the vents (which are, thankfully, big enough for him to slide through) and squeezes his way to Storage Room Three.

It’s packed full of storage containers, each numbered and labelled with things like ‘Guns’ and ‘Throwing Knives’. Wade prowls through the rows, dipping in and out of the boxes until he has a fairly impressive selection of five hand guns, a shot gun, and one rifle. He tucks three six inch knives into the pockets on his suit, and finally- finally - comes across the container labelled ‘Deadpool’.

“Hey, they have one just for me!”

He opens it, and discovers it’s actually pretty full. “How did they get all of this stuff?” He mutters aloud.

There’s approximately ten guns, so Wade shucks all of the SHIELD ones off and replaces them with as many of is own as he can. Finally, he slides his katanas into their sheaths and pats his pockets. “I think we’re good.”   


**Me too. Let’s go shoot things!**

_ No. We’re doing this carefully. We can’t draw too much attention, or otherwise SHIELD will want to actually imprison us. _

“They wouldn’t be able to keep us for long,” Wade says, loading the smallest hand gun and turning it this way and that. “Hey, I missed this little guy.”   


**Shoot it shoot it shoot it shoot it!**

_ Don’t shoot it! Are you stupid? _

“Maybe a little,” Wade grins, cocking the gun and firing it at the wall. “Like a dream. Come on, then. Let’s blow this joint.”

So he does.

 

*

 

_ What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck were you thinking?! _

“Hey, we got out,” Wade defends.

_ You got yourself shot. Seven times. And if they weren’t looking for us already, they will be now! We killed ten agents” _

“Normally, I thought you’d be enforcing killing.”   


**I am,** Yellow says.

_ Shut up, Yellow. We aren’t talking about you. We’re talking about how Wade is an irresponsible idiot who wouldn’t know subtlety if it punched him in the face. _

“I so do know how to be subtle!”

_ Believe it when I see it,  _ White grumps.

“Cheer up, White. Seriously, it’s not that bad. We’re out now, aren’t we? We can go save Peter from a distance and abandon all our relationships,” Wade reasons.

**And forget about everything with women and vodka,** Yellow adds.

“And forget about everything with women and vodka,” Wade agrees. “Well, I think that went rather well.”   


_ Apart from the fact that we’re going to have to live in hiding until SHIELD stops looking for us. _

“SHIELD never stops looking for us,” Wade says, “And we’re good at hiding, anyway. We’ll be fine.”   


**See, White? We’ll be fine. Stop being a spoilsport.**

_ Right, because you’re so high and mighty, Yellow. _

“Can you two shut up, for like, a second? Or is that impossible?”

_ I don’t know, Wade, can you even shut up the voices in your head? I have no idea, why don’t we try it? _

**Ooh, yeah! Wade, let’s! Shoot your brains out, that’s always fun!** **  
**

“Why the hell would I do that?” Wade demands. 

**Because it’s fun!**

“No, it’s not!" Wade yells. “It’s not fun at all to regrow my brain and my skull and everything.”

_ But don’t you wanna forget for a while? _

“Forget what?”

_ Peter. _

“Why would I want to forget him?”

_ Because maybe that way you won’t want to follow after him. He won’t want to see us. _

That makes more sense than Wade is willing to admit, so he fishes out all of his guns and knives and tucks them behind the dumpster in the alley way he’s sitting in. Then he chooses his favourite and pulls the trigger, until the last thing he hears is the city and Yellow’s imitation of a robot shutting down.

 

*

 

The medical wing at the Academy is surprisingly empty. He and Gwen are the only ones in there, save for the intern nurse, who’s just typing something into his computer. Peter doesn’t know where the actual nurse is, but it’s about eleven at night, so they’re probably sleeping, or eating. The night staff are on, anyway.

“How are you feeling?” Gwen asks for the third time.

“I’m fine,” Peter answers for the third time.

“But you don’t look fine,” Gwen says. “You look-”

The nurse gets up, shuts his computer off, and leaves.   


“I know. This is the third time you’ve said it,” Peter cuts in. He feels kind of like he wants to cry (but he’s not going to do that in the med wing of the Sci-Tech Academy.) and he’s cold, and his leg hurts because he’s moved it quite a lot today.

“Peter, please. Be honest with me.”   


Finally, something she hasn’t already said.

“Why don’t you like Deadpool?” Peter asks instead.

“Because he kills people!” Gwen exclaims. She sounds surprised.

“Do you know why he kills?” Peter asks. “Who he kills?”

“Peter, it doesn’t matter how or why or who, it matters that every one deserves a second chance.”   


“What if that was their second chance?” Peter asks. “I just want to know why no one seems ot be offering him a second chance.”   


Gwen doesn’t have anything to say to that, so instead she just sighs heavily, pats his knee, and stands up. “They’ll move you to your dorm tomorrow morning. Goodnight, Peter.”   


Then she leaves.

Peter just watches the door swing, and swing, and then stop. Then he thinks of how he didn’t look at Wade as they wheeled him away, and how his heart felt like it was breaking even if it had no reason to. Then he thinks of how he wants to see Wade, and where is Wade. How is Wade, what’s he doing, Wade, Wade, Wade.

Then he finally lets himself cry.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! 100 kudos! woah! glad u guys are enjoying this.
> 
> so gwen is a bit of an ass in this chapter. but it all gets resolved in the next one. promise. she just cares, okay?
> 
> so this is mostly backstory and wade angst. also my first writing the boxes. i havent read any deadpool comics before, so the only stuff i know of the boxes is from other fanfic and google, so be gentle. i base mine off of the left and right brain from bo burnhams song 'left brain, right brain'. if white is the left brain and yellow is right. i think thats kinda accurate? idk. i also got most of wades backstory from google. oops.
> 
> comment what u thought! pls! i love seeing ur guys reactions and thoughts and all that lovely stuff.
> 
> also hey! they cuddled! physical contact! sappy peter whos hyped on pain meds and kind of in love with wade. he has a weakness for muscley blondes, okay. i feel like i should specify my scarred wade btw. i didnt want to do full scars, but i didnt want to do pretty wade. so we're going half and half. just to clear that up. 
> 
> theyre not together yet, by the way. even if it seems like it. oops.
> 
> so im gonna update the tags too, so please remember to check them every now and then, just in case theres something that you dont want to read.
> 
> thanks for reading lovelies


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wade and gwen have a moment, and then there's giant lobsters.
> 
> yeah, i know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO EXCITED FOR THE GWEN AND WADE SCENE WOO
> 
> also y'all saw how wade died last chappie yes well there's some of that in here which means be Careful and im also going to up the rating on this lol.

Wade doesn’t come to visit him.

It’s been a week, he’s allowed back on his feet (within reason. Apparently your first bullet wound means everyone has a free pass to treat you like a child) and Wade still hasn’t come to visit Peter.

Agent Alison even did more baking. More salted caramel cupcakes, even though Peter doesn’t like them. Gwen ate them all instead, and she doesn’t move more than ten feet away from him at all times. She’s probably a mind reader, because she knows something’s up with him.

“They should put you on the index,” Peter says, nudging her with his elbow. 

Gwen jerks to the right a little, disrupting the papers next to her. It’s still exam season, and apparently, while bullet wounds give you free reign over the ice cream machine in the cafeteria, they don’t spare you from tests. “Why?”

“You haven’t left me alone since I got here. You must be a mind reader. You’ve been eating the salted caramel cakes, and bringing me those cola flavoured Haribo Maoams,” Peter says.

“I know you don’t like salted caramel, and you have a weird obsession with cola candy,” Gwen shrugs. “We have been friends since third grade, you know.”

“I know,” Peter says.

“I don’t have to be a mind reader to know something’s wrong with you. And it’s not just post injury depression, if that’s a thing,” she continues. “And I’m not stupid either, I know you’re missing someone. So it’s either May, which is the most obvious choice, but if you did miss her, you’d sneak out to go see her. So it’s not May. Which means it’s probably someone you met recently, which could be Agent Frange, but she visits you quite a lot anyway, so it’s not her. Which must mean it’s Deadpool, because you were obviously friendly with him.”   


“Well, I never said you weren’t smart,” Peter mumbles.

“It’s Deadpool, Peter. I don’t know why, because being friends with Deadpool is quite possibly the worst decision you could make-”   


“It’ll never be as bad as that time in 2008, when Ned decided to jump off of the roof dressed like a unicorn,” Peter interrupts.

“-You have a point,” Gwen concedes. “But that’s not my point. My point is that Deadpool is the worst friend you could have. You do know what he does, right? What he’s done?”

“I know what he’s told me,” Peter says.

“So he can spin it to paint himself in a better light?”

“Why would I have any reason not to believe him? He’s my friend, Gwen. He’s nice, and funny, and kinda, well, cute-”   


“No! I refuse to let you fall in love with a murderer, Pete!   


“And I’m not going to betray his trust by looking up his file, Gwen! I’m gonna let him tell me when he’s ready,” Peter finishes. “And you can’t control who I fall in love with.”   


“Peter, please,” Gwen says. “I do it because I care, okay? He’s a player, he’ll play around and I don’t want to see you get hurt. You give one hundred percent, and he gives thirty.”   


“The plus side of him potentially breaking my heart is that you can kill him as many times as you want, because he’ll come back,” Peter says.

Gwen makes a face. “That is a surprisingly persuasive reason.”   


Peter chuckles. “I just wish I had a way to contact him.”   


Gwen studies his face, and then sighs. “Oh, fine. Come on.”   


“Come on where?” Peter asks, stumbling to his feet as Gwen pulls him up by the arm.

“Computer labs,” Gwen says. “We’ll find him for you.”

“How? Tracker?”

“No, stupid. Security cameras,” Gwen tells him. “I think if SHIELD had managed to put a tracker on him, he would have noticed. He’s more observant than people here give him credit for.”

“Did you just say something nice about Deadpool?” Peter gasps.

“Oh, shush. It’s a one off,” Gwen sniffs. “Anyway, computer lab. Come on.”   


“What if someone asks us what we’re doing?”

“What, hacking security cameras is illegal now?”

Peter frowns. “Uh, yeah. Kind of?”

Gwen scoffs. “Whatever. We’re SHIELD. It’ll be fine. Now, come on. We’ll find this boy toy of yours.”   


“We’re not- He’s not-”   


“Oh, sure, Peter,” Gwen rolls her eyes. 

“Oh, sure, Gwen,” Peter mimics. “We’re just friends. I’m not gonna let my feelings get in the way of that.”

“You fall in love far too quickly,” Gwen says.

“Can you blame me?” Peter retorts. “Besides, need I mention Michael Forgrasi in ninth grade?”   


“Don’t you dare-"

“-’Oh, Peter, he’s so perrrrrrrrrrfect’,” Peter says, in an exaggerated falsetto. “‘Oh, Peter, I love him. We’re going to get married!’ You sat next to him in chemistry for a week.”   


“One, I don’t sound like that, and two, I never said anything of the like,” Gwen huffs.

“You did a bit, Gwenny.”

“I didn’t!” Gwen shrieks. “You’re a monster, Parker. A monster.”   


Peter grins. “Well, hey. Perfect timing, it’s the computer lab.”

Gwen glares at him one last time and pushes the door open. There’s two people in there, one who looks about twenty, another who looks fifty.

“Gwen, are you sure?” Peter asks, glancing around at the other two.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be fine. You want to find him, don’t you?”

“I mean- Yeah, I guess,” Peter shrugs. “You sure?”

“Positive,” Gwen promises. “Come on, then.”   


She leads him over to the computer in the furthest corner, turning it on and dragging a second chair in front of it. “Sit,” she says, “And we’ll find him for you.”   


Peter nods, sitting in the second chair slowly. “Okay.”   


Gwen glances at him, and sighs. “Look, if we get in trouble, I’ll take the blame, okay?”   


“I’ll be guilty by association,” Peter protests.

“Oh, come on. If SHIELD did that guilty by association thing, then all of us would be guilty for being part of an organisation half controlled by Hydra, wouldn’t we?”

Peter shrugs. “I guess we would.”   


Gwen hums. “Right then.”   


It takes her far too short a time to hack the nearest cameras (Peter thinks, not for the first time, that so many places in the world need to update their security). Then she’s clicking through the ones near the Sci-Tech Academy. 

There’s nothing till the seventh one, where Peter inhales sharply.

“What?” Gwen demands. “What is it?”

“Can you get a better angle on that alley way?” Peter asks.

Gwen frowns at him but nods, turning back to the screen and tapping something. 

The angle changes to a view of the alley, and then Peter can see Wade’s body, dressed up in his Deadpool suit, with his guns and his knives packed on it, and his blood and bones and brain matter decorating the brick behind him.

Red doesn’t seem like such a nice colour, Peter thinks, not when it looks like that.

 

*

 

Gwen, somehow, has enough power around the base to authorize taking a Quinjet for a joy ride.

Which, honestly, is pretty damn impressive. Peter’s impressed. Peter’s really impressed and kind of scared.

She’s already memorised the approximate coordinates for Wade’s alley, and inputted them in the automatic system. Peter isn’t sure when she took a pilot course, but it sure is helpful right now, because it means they get to the alley way in about ten minutes.

Peter couldn’t focus on anything but the image of Wade and Wade’s pieces on the brick that’s been thoroughly burned into his brain.

It’s even worse in real life, but thankfully, Wade seems to be waking up now. At least, he’s lying in a puddle of blood and gore and making soft moaning sounds. Peter almost slips on the tacky blood, but falls to his knees at Wade’s ide.

“P- Peter?” Wade whispers.

“What were you thinking?” Peter mutters.

“I wasn’t,” Wade shrugs, moving to start sitting up. “What are you doing here? How did you get here? How did you find me?”

“Apparently, Gwen has a pilot license that she never told me about,” Peter says, “And we hacked a couple of security cameras. You didn’t come to visit me, remember? So I thought I’d visit you instead.”   


“But your leg! Aren’t you on bed rest?”

Peter shrugs. “Probably. But you’re more important. Anyway, I thought you woke up pretty quick after.. Dying?”

“I do,” Wade mutters. Instead of answering, he just reaches for a pistol and unlocking the magazine, before handing that to Peter.

“What-?”

“It was full last week,” Wade says.

There’s three bullets left. And Peter feels like screaming.

“Was it the boxes?”

Wade nods slowly. 

Peter frowns. His hands have gone all blood red and sticky, but that doesn’t matter.

“Are you not just gonna leave me here, then?” Wade asks suddenly.

“What? Why would I do that?” Peter asks.

“You just found out that I’ve spent the majority of the past week dead in some fucked up alley way in who knows where. Most people would be running for the hills by now.”   


“You thought I’d be running for the hills when you told me who you were,” Peter says. “And like then, I kind of just want to give you a hug.”   


Wade looks kind of surprised, so Peter just pulls him into a hug, even though they’re both kind of covered in sticky, tacky, drying blood and Wade sounds a little bit like he might be about to cry.

Then, “Peter?” Gwen stumbles out of the jet, staring at her phone. “Peter, we need to go.”

 

*

 

It’s kind of awkward, being in a confined space with Gwen and Wade.

Gwen refuses to talk to Wade, and Wade refuses to talk to Gwen, and Peter is left feeling a lot like Hermione from Harry Potter, in the Goblet of Fire, when Harry and Ron weren’t talking to each other. 

Mostly though, Gwen just focuses on flying the jet to wherever she’s flying it, because she hasn’t actually told them where they’re going, and why they’re going there. She did throw them a box of wet wipes (why she had them on her, Peter doesn’t know) but it makes him feel a little bit better to get Wade’s blood off of his hands.

Wade doesn’t seem to have a lot to say, either, mostly just whispering to his boxes and trying to avoid eye contact with Gwen. Who seems to be trying to avoid eye contact with Wade.

It’s quite frustrating, really.

“For God’s sake, you two,” Peter grumbles, maybe twenty minutes into the flight. The awkward silence is so heavy, he can feel it weighting on him.

“What?” Gwen asks.

“Just kiss and make up, okay? I don’t know how much longer I can take this torture.”   


Gwen presses a few buttons and turns to glare at Peter. “What do you mean?”

“You’re both being uncharacteristically quiet,” Peter explains. “It’s unnerving.”   


Gwen sticks her tongue out at him. “Fine. Wilson, I’m sorry for how I treated you previously.”   


“I- Forgiven?” Wade sounds unsure.

“Happy now, Pete?” Gwen asks him.

“I have a feeling that’s the best I’m gonna get for a while, so yes,” Peter says, “Thank you.”   


“Glad that’s cleared up,” Gwen says.

Then they all go silent for five more minutes.

“Where are we going?” Wade asks eventually.

“Alaska,” Gwen says.

“Why Alaska?” Peter questions.

“Coulson called us there. Apparently, something’s going down and they need our help. I don’t think they’re expecting us to have brought Deadpool along, though. So that should be fun.”   


“Will I be allowed to fight?” Peter asks, “I thought Coulson wanted to keep me out of the action for another week.”   


“He did,” Gwen says shortly. “However, he’s changed his mind. You’ll stay in here, monitoring the comms and cameras, and playing backup just in case we need you. I’d imagine Wade can stay in here too.”   


“Oh, goodie,” Wade mutters.

“Don’t sound so down,” Peter nudges him with an elbow. “Who knows how long stuck in a small, confined space with me? What could be worse?”

“I can think of a lot of things that would be bett- White, shut the fuck up, you fucking asshole, one of these days I swear, I’m going to stab the life out of you,” The last part is more whispered to himself.

 

*

 

 

_ There is nothing that would be worse! We spent all this time trying to get away from him, for his own good, and now we’re back! Stuck! In a plane, with him and his best girlfriend! And we were going to leave him alone!  _ White wails.  _ None of this would have happened if you fucktards had just listened to me! _

“Drop the tone, asshole,” Wade mutters. “We did listen to you.”   


_ Whose idea was it to kill ourselves? _

“Both of yours?” Wade whispers.

**Hey, man, don’t drag me into it,** Yellow says,  **I’m just glad to see him again. Look at him. Look at his ass**

“I’m not going to look at his ass, we could get fined for sexual harassment!” Wade hisses.

“You what?” Peter asks.

“Nothing,” Wade says quickly.

**Oh, he’s so concerned! Makes my heart melt.**

_ You don’t have a heart. _

**Wade does. We’re sharing his.**

_ You’re still heartless. _

**A stone cold bitch,** Yellow declares. 

“I agree,” Wade mutters.

_ Oh, piss off. Look who brought this upon us. If you had just found a better place to off yourself, none of this would have happened. _

**Yeah, Wade! It’s all your fault, Wade!** **  
**

_ Of course it’s his fault, he’s an idiot. _

**Dumb!** **  
**

_ Stupid. _

**Insane! Childish! Fucking crazy!**

“Cut it out!”

Oops. He yelled that.

**_Now_ ** _ you’ve really done it,  _ White says sounding entirely too smug.

 

*

 

“Uh, what?” Gwen asks. “Cut what out?”

“He wasn’t talking to us,” Peter says. “Don’t worry about it.”   


“Who was he talking to, then?” Gwen presses. Then she doesn’t press anymore because Wade’s sharpest knife has taken a chunk out of her blonde hair, and embedded itself in the wall of the jet behind her.

“Listen up, Princess Peach. I’m one hundred percent certain you already know how fucked in the head I am. You trying to get me to talk about it is only gonna end with me walking away from here, and you with your blood all over the floor. So shut up, yeah? Maybe then I’ll be more inclined to tell you something.”   


Okay. Woah. Wade’s voice can get really deep. If he didn’t have a knife pressed to Gwen’s throat, Peter would probably be kind of hard right now. He should probably say something to deflate the situa-

“Princess Peach? Oh, please,” Gwen scoffs. “Let me do the talking, Hannibal Lector, and maybe that way I won’t put this plane down.”   


“You wouldn’t do that. Could you live with the blood of your boyfriend on your hands? You couldn’t, could you, because you’re weak, and chatty, and while you’ve been distracted I could have killed you three times over,” Wade hisses.

“Why haven’t you, then?” Gwen asks, pushing her neck forward so the skin catches on the knife. A shallow cut appears, beads of blood bubbling up.

Peter should probably get them to stand down. But honestly? Seeing Wade like this is kinda, well. Hot. And he kind of wants to see where Gwen’s going to take it.

So yeah. He should be doing something. But he isn’t. He’s kind of just sitting and staring.

“See! You won’t kill me because Peter’s here!” Gwen exclaims triumphantly. “For all you go on about how I’m the cowardly one, you’re the one who can’t spill a bit of blood because  _ your  _ boyfriend is here!”

“Excuse me?” Wade asks. His voice goes even deeper, even deadlier. Peter didn’t think that was possible. “I could kill you with anything on this plane.  This knife, a gun, a seatbelt, a gas mask, your hair, my own bare fucking hands. I’d be careful what you say, Honey Boo Boo.”   


Gwen scoffs. “And I repeat. Why haven’t you already?”

Then she swings her right leg up, wrapping it around Wade’s waist, leaning back away from the knife and swinging herself around till she’s behind Wade (it’s really impressive, and the only other person Peter has seen do it is the actual Black fucking Widow). She reaches round and disarms Wade, the knife clattering to the floor. Then Gwen digs into one of his holsters, and pulls out a loaded shot gun. 

“What was that about killing me?” She asks sweetly.

Wade bursts out laughing.

“Where the hell did you learn that?” Peter asks.

“MJ,” Gwen says. “She’s been teaching me.”   


“Lesson learned, then,” Peter says, “I hope. Have we all locked down our murderous tendencies, now?”

Gwen nods, dropping the gun back into it’s holster and picking up Wade’s knife before handing it back to him. “So, why didn’t you stop us?” She asks.

“Honestly?” Peter says. Gwen nods. “I wanted to see where it would go.”   


Wade snorts. “Seriously?”

“Well, she was right. You wouldn’t have killed her in here,” Peter explains. “There’s cameras, and witnesses and all that. And even if Gwen had killed you, you would have come back. So really, I had no reason to worry much at all.”   


“You have entirely too much faith in us,” Gwen says.

“You’re my best friend, I’m supposed to,” Peter tells her matter - of - factly. “I hope you’ve both gotten over your differences now, then.”   


Gwen and Wade exchanges glances, and Wade says “I have if she has.”

“I have if he has,” Gwen retorts.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Peter grumbles.

 

*

 

There is a sort of emergency in Alaska.

Well, if remote controlled giant mutant lobsters can be considered sort of an emergency.

They don’t seem to be doing anything yet, though. SHIELD has them surrounded, and they don’t seem be wreaking much havoc. Aside from stepping on the occasional building, but it doesn’t seem deliberate.

“Uh. What?” Peter says eloquently.

“Yep,” Gwen grimaces. “Mutant, semi conscious lobsters.”   


“They look brain washed,” Wade says.

“They do a bit, don’t they?”

Gwen frowns. “I’ll find Coulson and tell him you think they’re brainwashed. I’ll get him to connect the comms to the radio in the jet, okay? You guys stay here and we’ll call you in if we need reinforcements.”   


“Okay,” Peter says, trying not to sound too disappointed. “We’ll stay. Good luck.”

“Don’t get killed by the giant mutant lobsters!” Wade trills.

 

*

 

Apparently the giant mutant lobsters weren’t giant mutant lobsters. Peter almost misses them. One, because watching them peel of their skin to give way to giant crabs (is this like, Seaworld on steroids?) was fucking terrifying. Peter had severe, Doctor Who slitheen flashbacks. Two, the lobsters weren’t doing anything. The crabs have machine guns built into their claws, and seem to think everything is a target. 

Seriously, Peter watched five of them open fire on a tiny little bird because it was unfortunate to fly across the ‘active areas’. 

Someone must have put all the SHIELD vehicles in stealth mode, because none of the crabs have detected them, thankfully. Peter knows Gwen is hiding in one.

“What are we gonna do?” Wade mutters.

“It’s giant mutant crabs,” Is all Peter can say.

“Wait for their signal, I guess,” Wade says. “Maybe we should be trying to figure out what they are.”   


“Giant mutant crabs is what they are.”

“Yes, thank you, genius. How do these computers work?”

Peter jerks. “Right. Yes. Yes!”   


“So?”

“I think I can rig together a DNA scanner or something,” Peter says. “There should be an emergency toolkit around here somewhere.”   


“DNA scanner means we’ll need DNA to scan, right?” Wade says. He hasn’t moved, just keeps staring at the crabs out the window.

“Uh, yep. Is that a problem?”

“Well, kind of. How are we going to get it?” Wade asks.

Peter pauses where he’s burst into action and started stripping wires from the control board. “Oh.”   


Wade meets his eyes. “Right. You focus on building your scanner, I’ll find something for us to scan.”   


“Wade-”

“Keep building, Petey.”   


“Wade, they fire on anything that moves. They’ll kill you before you can even open the door all the way,” Peter says.

“Can you hear any gunshots right now?” Wade asks.

Peter is silent for a second. “No, not rig-”   


He’s cut off by a spray of bullets. Figures.

“That sounds like SHIELD,” Peter says.

“Definitely SHIELD,” Wade confirms.

Then there’s a loud, heavy thud and the roof buckles slightly.

Peter glances up and then dives for the control board, activating the outside cameras.

His heart lodges itself in his throat.

“Well,” he says finally. “Found our DNA.”   


There’s a dead, or dying, giant mutant crab flopping all over the roof of the jet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me your thoughts! i hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> sorry it took so long to get up. i had a Bad Brain Day, and then writers block, and then a whole host of other bullshit. but we're here now. its 3.5k. short. whatever. 
> 
> next chapter will be uuuuuup.. i dont know when. next couple of days? hopefully? ive entered the spideypool big bang over on the spideypoolfanfic tumblr, so ill be splitting my writing time between that and this, which means updates may become even more sporadic.
> 
> well, i think thats all i need to say. see you later, guys


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a battle, peter is clever (like always) and hey, look! avengers!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG
> 
> ENJOY

“I swear I had a dream like this once,” Wade says, leaning over the control panel to try and catch a glimpse of the crab.

“Oh, yeah? How’d it end?”

“I don’t remember. I think I woke up before we could save the day.” Wade shrugs. “Well, I guess I’ll go get you a tissue sample, then.”   


“No, wait!”

Wade pauses by the door. “What?”

“You can’t go out there,” Peter says. “If they’ve killed one, it means that SHIELD are fighting, and the crabs will be fighting back. Which means you’ll probably get shot too. It’s too dangerous. We’ll have to get it from in here.”

“How the fuck do we get out there from in here?” Wade demands.

Peter waves his hands out distractedly. “I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. Can you contact Gwen? There’s a comm setting on the control board.”   


Wade nods, backtracking from the door. “Alright.” Peter watches him activate the comm setting and say, “Gwen? You there?”

Gwen’s voice echoes around the jet. “ _ Yep. Are either of you hurt? _ ”

“Nope,” Peter says. “Got anything for us?”

“ _ Yeah _ ,” Gwen says, but she sounds distracted and like she’s talking to two people at once. “ _ Stay there. Stay safe. See if you can figure out what these things are and why they seem to be immune to everything we’re throwing at them _ .”   


“Immune? Gwen, we’ve got a dead one on the roof of the jet,” Peter tells her, frowning.

“ _ You’ve got a what? On the where? _ ”

“A dead one, on top of the jet,” Wade repeats patiently.

“ _ Holy shit, okay. Let me tell Coulson. If it’s safe, get a sample and try and decode the biology _ ,” Gwen says.

“We were trying to do that. But I don’t know how safe it is to get out there.”   


“ _ Use the radar scanner, then, Peter _ ,” Gwen says.

“I’ve dismantled it,” Peter mutters. “To build a DNA scanner. Because as far as I’m aware, the jets don’t have one built in.

Peter can imagine her closing her eyes and exhaling through her nose.  _ “Okay. Coulson’s called the Avengers in. We can get them to bring a scanner with their jet, or something _ .”   


“I’m half way there, Gwen. It’s just be quicker for me to continue.”   


“ _ Okay, then. Continue doing that. Tell you what, we’ll send Banner in with you. I doubt we’ll need the Hulk. Two geniuses and Deadpool on this, you’ll get it done _ ,” Gwen plans. “ _ No offense, Wade. _ ”   


“None taken,” Wade hums. “I’ll get you that DNA.”   


Peter watches out the corner of his eye as Wade digs around his suit for a small container, and then before he can say anything, Wade slips out of the jet.

“WADE!-”   


“ _ What’s he done? _ ” Gwen asks.

“He’s fucking gone out there,” Peter bites out. “I need to build this scanner. Call in if you need us.”   


“ _ Be careful _ ,” Gwen says, and then she’s gone. There’s a second of static-y white noise and then the jet is silent.

Peter strips another wire down with his teeth, cataloging all the pieces he’d need in his head. There’s kind of muted gun fire now, getting quieter and quieter as he falls deeper into his ‘fix it’ head space.

Wade should be back soon, hopefully with a DNA sample that Peter can do something with. Ideally, he’d have a bigger workplace with proper lab equipment, but they both need to stay to attention, just in case Gwen needs him or Wade. 

Honestly, he feels exhausted. A lot has happened in the past twenty four hours, and his leg has started up a dull throb. His head throbs too, in the same tempo. One day, there won’t be any giant, mutated crabs to fight and Peter will finally breathe.

Well, this is his first giant mutant battle. It’s a bit disconcerting how quickly he got tired of it.

“Got it!” Wade exclaims suddenly, pushing inside and then dropping to his knees and panting. Peter jolts back into himself and looks up.

“Holy shit! What the fuck! Oh my, God! Okay, hold on,” Peter says, leaping to his feet and rushing over to Wade, and putting his hands on Wade’s shoulders.

Wade hands him the sample (and mix of skin and blood) and gasps out a breath. “Apparently no one really cares who they shoot at.”   


“How many?” Peter asks.

Wade shrugs. “How many bullets? I dunno, like seventeen.”   


“Seventeen?!” Peter screeches. “I didn’t actually want to know that. I meant how many crabs are there.”   


“Oh,” Wade chuckles. “Loads.” Then he falls face first into Peter, who just barely manages to catch him.

“Well,” Peter mutters, sliding Wade onto the floor. “At least we have a sample now.”

 

*

 

The DNA is actually normal. Normal crab DNA. Which, okay, Peter wasn’t actually expecting. Like, come on, you don’t expect giant mutant crabs to have normal actual crab DNA, do you? But they do have normal crab DNA.

“Gwen?”

“ _ Peter? What? _ ”

“They’re just- they’re just normal crabs, Gwen.”   


“ _ These crabs are not fucking normal, Peter _ .”   


“They are! The DNA scan hasn’t picked up anything abnormal. They’re just crabs,” Peter shrugs, even though she can’t see him.

“ _ Peter, they’re giant, with guns built into the claws. Please tell me how they’re at all normal, _ ” Gwen says.

“But they are! There is nothing weird or different in their DNA at all. Are the Avengers here yet? Tell Bruce and Tony to come check it out. Maybe they’ll know better than me.”   


“ _ Okay. Okay, I’ll send them over. Just keep working on it, please. Nitpick it. How’s Wade? _ ”

“Oh, he’s fine. Dead,” Peter glances over at Wade slumped in the corner of the jet.

“ _ He’s WHAT? _ ”

“Dead, Gwen. Like I said. But it’s fine, he’ll come back soon. I’ll update you when I have something worth updating,” Peter says. “Good luck.”   


“ _ Okay. Bruce and Tony should be on their way _ .”   


There’s the white noise static again, and then silence, and then someone thumping on the door. Peter glances out the window first, and then opens it, letting Bruce Banner and Tony Stark in.

“Wow. You guys got here quick,” Peter says.

“I have jet fuel,” Tony tells him. “So you’re the one trying to decode the DNA?”

“I guess I am,” Peter shrugs.

“Alright, show us where you’re working,” Tony says.

“Weird question,” Bruce interrupts,” But is that Deadpool?”

“Oh- yeah, it is.”   


“But he’s-”   


“Dead? Yeah. He does that. He’ll be fine,” Peter waves off their concerns. “This is what I scanned with.”   


“You built that with all the stuff in here?” Tony asks.

Peter nods.

“Holy shit,” Tony says.

Bruce glances at Wade, and then at Peter again before visibly shaking himself and blinking thrice. “Right. So what have you found so far?”   


“They’re just normal crabs,” Peter says.

“These are not normal fucki-”

“Yeah, I know, I’ve already had this conversation. But the DNA results didn’t show anything abnormal,” Peter says irritably. “They are literally just crabs. Nothing else, nothing weird in the blood or anything. You can check it if you want.”   


He kind of feels bad that he just mouthed off to Actual Tony Stark and Actual Bruce Banner. But the scans are fruitless, and he’s tired, and Wade’s fucking lying in the corner, getting more blood every where and Peter is just exhausted. He’s blaming it on the exhaustion.

Bruce steps forward to rescan the samples Wade got, and after a minute, he nods at Tony. “He’s right.”

“I did say that,” Peter grumbles.

“Lose the attitude, kid,” Tony says, “We’re all confused here, okay?”

“Not a kid,” Peter says.

“Stop acting like one then,” Tony tells him.

“Knock it off, both of you,” Bruce says, “We need to figure out how to take these guys down.”   


“Well, if they’re just normal crabs then surely they’ll be vulnerable and have the same weaknesses as small crabs,” Peter says.

Bruce shrugs. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try it, I guess.”   


“Great,” Tony claps his hands sharply, “What are crabs’ greatest weaknesses, then?”

 

*

 

Peter didn’t ever think that working for SHIELD would ever bring him to this kind of situation.

Namely, nursing an immortal mercenary back to the land of the living, while two sixths of the Avengers argue about a crabs’ greatest weakness, because they’re currently fighting an army of giant, mutated ones.

Peter kind of wants to go back to bed.

The throbbing in his leg hasn’t gotten any better. If anything, it’s gotten worse, and his eyes getting itchy. Bruce notices him rubbing at them and says, “Peter, why don’t you nap for a little while?”

“No, I- I’m fine,” Peter says, even though he’s listing sideways into Wade as he speaks. “I can last a little longer.”   


Tony glances up and frowns at him. “You can’t do any work if you’re falling asleep on your feet, kid. Nap.”   


Peter shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Where were we?”

“Getting nowhere,” Bruce grumbles. “Stuck.”   


“We haven’t found anything out of the ordinary,” Tony summarises.

“What are you looking for?” Wade asks.

“What makes these crabs so different. You were there when we discussed this,” Peter reminds him.

Wade shrugs. “So you’re looking for something that’s already there?”

Peter nods. “Yeah. Where are you going with this?”

“Well, have you tried looking for what _ isn’t _ there?” Wade suggests.

“Thats- That might actually work,” Bruce murmurs. “That might work!”   
  


*

 

It works.

It actually, properly works.

Bruce resets the scans, and they discover that there’s a few odd cells missing. Only it’s a really big deal, because they’re what let the crabs grow so large (so it wasn’t genetically engineered crabs, it was just people finding giant crabs and deciding that ‘hey! Loading these guys up with machine guns would be pretty awesome!’

Still doesn’t explain the lobster part though, but Peter is willing to let that go. As long as it means they get to take out all the crabs.

Which they do! SHIELD is undeniably good at their job, because there’s minimum casualties and all the collateral damage isn’t their fault. Wade’s suit is still riddled with bullets holes, but Peter thinks he was the worst off. Gwen has a lovely looking black eye, and a split lip, but that’s all, and he doesn’t really see anyone with worse injuries.

Coulson calls the Avengers in, and Peter can’t stop staring at Black Widow. She barely looks ruffled. There isn’t one hair out of place. Which- impressive. She looks kind of familiar, but she is always on the news so he just ignores the butterflies in his stomach.

Really, he just wants to go home and sleep. But Coulson vetoes that by saying that anyone on site is required to write a summary of the battle, and what they did in the hopes of understanding the creatures. Which is not so great, because Peter is tired. And whilst bullet wounds get you out of most things, apparently they don’t get you out of paperwork. Which sucks.

They have to go on one of the big SHIELD jets to get back to the Sci-Tech Academy, because Peter kind of destroyed theirs when he was building the scanner. Being around so many sweaty, bloody agents kind of gives him a headache. Peter can’t tell if its from the BO, or the iron-copper smell of blood, or his own pain.

Gwen glares at him every time he stands up, so he just settles for lying on her shoulder and making faces at Wade. Who has been put in hand cuffs (fucking hand cuffs. The Loki hand cuffs) because even after he saved them, he still can’t be trusted, apparently, and all the agents keep glancing at him out the corner of their eyes.

Clint Barton has been put next to Wade (Peter’s not sure why, but at least Clint isn’t mouthing off about him), and Wade keeps trying to initiate a conversation. But from what little Peter can hear, he thinks it comes off more Wade talking to his boxes and Clint trying not to laugh, or cry. Peter can’t really tell.

He just wants to sleep. Really, truly. So he sort of curls side ways, putting his feet up on the seat to the left of him (he thinks it’s empty, but after brushing someone’s thighs with his toes, he doesn’t think that anymore. He just curls up as small as he can) and uses Gwen’s lap as a pillow.

He shuts his eyes, vaguely noting that Gwen’s started playing with his hair and that the person on his other side has red hair, and has pulled his feet into their lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kind of hate this chapter and it took so long and im feeling so terrible about my writing skills right now ughhhh. comment what you thought please. i live for comments and i need something to cheer me up right now.
> 
> i feel like this chapter reads really slowly but moves really fast. if that makes sense. its why i HATE IT. this is my least favourite chapter honestly. the only part i like is the 'is that deadpool? oh yeah. but he's dead? oh yeah, he does that' part.
> 
> idk man. ive relapsed back into my self destructive, depression mindset, and its That Time of The Month as well, and its my dads birthday, and ive been out with friends twice since saturday. im exhausted, sad, bleeding and in the middle of a heat wave. and thats all the complaining im going to allow myself.
> 
> on the plus side, ive been working on my spideypoolfanfic entry, so thats cool. and i have had a lot of ideas recently (seriously, theres a note on my phone with 17 potential ideas/titles. so some of them might make an appearance soon).
> 
> anyway, sorry this update took so long and ended up being so short. oh well. whatever. see you next time.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> emails, more emails, and nick fury is an Asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so fucking long? enjoy it anyway.

****

He wakes up in his own bed, feeling even more tired (even after who knows how many hours of sleep). Gwen is curled up around him, the same way they all used to sleep when Harry had sleepover parties. Peter relishes in her warmth before his brain actually wakes up.

When it does, he winces, because all of a sudden, his leg is sending sparks of pain pain pain to his brain. Apparently, all that pressure from yesterday doesn’t help bullet wounds. Which he wishes he knew before yesterday.

Gwen must have stirred when he shifted (because of the PAIN. Bullet wounds fucking suck), because she mutters something that sounds kind of like ‘what the fucking fuck are you doing, shitty gold fish’ and then sits up.

“What did you just call me?” Peter asks, sounding kind of amused.

“Nothing,” Gwen says primly. “Why are you awake?”

“My leg hurts,” Peter shrugs.

Gwen looks instantly horrified. “Why didn’t you say so? What hurts?”

“My leg, Gwen,” Peter says patiently. “You know, where I got shot about two weeks ago.”

“Oh, don’t play smart ass with me, mister,” Gwen mutters. “Is it bleeding?”

Peter shakes his head. “Don’t think so. Just itches, you know? As it scabs.”   


Gwen nods seriously. “Right. Yes. So we don’t need to go to medical?”

“No,” Peter says.

“Good. Then I’m going back to sleep.”   


So she does. Peter sighs.

 

*

 

Peter wakes up first again, when the sun is half way through the sky and sending golden rays through his window and onto Gwen’s blonde hair. 

It reminds him of back before everything. Before SHIELD, before high school, back when the extent of his problems were the last question on his math paper and the worst decisions he had to make were which bag of candy to buy on Fridays. 

Peter sighs, watching Gwen’s hair sparkle in the sun before deciding to check the time and his secure work email. 

Gwen doesn’t stir when he slides out from under her, and she doesn’t wake when he trips on his hard wood floor either, so he considers it a job well done. He sits in front of his laptop, opening it and waiting for it to load. 

His desktop picture is a selfie of him, MJ, Ned, Harry, and Gwen, all making funny faces at the camera. Gwen has her tongue sticking out, MJ’s eyes are crossed and her hands are squeezing Ned’s cheeks together. Harry has his arm slung around Gwen and his lips pulled back in a playful snarl. Peter is grinning so wide his eyes crinkle shut.

Peter smiles softly at the picture before checking the time (11:31 in the morning) and opening his email app. 

There’s two, one from Coulson and one from MJ. 

 

**To:** [](mailto:PParker.agent@shield.com) **PParker.agent@shield.com  
** **From:** [](mailto:MJones.agent@shield.com) **MJones.agent@shield.com  
** **Delivered: 15:31, 05/29/23**

   Peter,  
   Heard you got shot. Dumbass. Heal quick, okay? I’ll come visit you soon if I can get away from work. You know how it is.  
   Anyway, Harry asked if I could message you and Gwen and ask if you two are free on the second of June. He’s suggesting meeting up for a coffee, or something. Get the gang back together.  
   See ya,  
   MJ

**Sent from my iPhone.**

 

Peter clicks reply almost as soon as he’s finished reading. 

 

**To:** [](mailto:MJones.agent@shield.com) **MJones.agent@shield.com  
** **From:** [](mailto:PParker.agent@shield.com) **PParker.agent@shield.com  
** **Delivered: 11:35, 05/30/23**

MJ,  
   Coffee sounds great. I’ll check with Gwen but I should be able to escape at some point. 3pm on Saturday work?  
   I’ll heal as fast as my cells allow. Lol. Thanks for the well wishes. Come eat all my salted caramel cupcakes please? Agent Alison keeps baking for me.  
   See you soon,  
   Peter

**Sent from my [Secure Device]**

 

He clicks on the one from Coulson next, hoping and praying that it’s not another mission. 

 

**To:** [](mailto:PParker.agent@shield.com) **PParker.agent@shield.com  
** **From:** [](mailto:PCoulson.director@shield.com) **PCoulson.director@shield.com  
** **Delivered: 21:08, 05/29/23**

Agent Parker,  
   Hoping you’re well.  
   Nick Fury has asked after you. I believe he requires your expertise. I imagine he’ll be messaging you soon enough to organise a meeting. Please keep me updated with whatever he recruits you for.  
   Best wishes,  
   Phil Coulson

**Sent from my [Secure Device]**

 

Great. So it  _ was  _ a mission. Only Fury hasn’t emailed him yet, so he’s going to hope he changed his mind. 

Although Peter doubted that. Sigh. 

 

*

 

Gwen slept a lot longer than Peter expected, and he felt kind of bad for not waking her up because it’s going to mess up her sleeping schedule so badly. But the dark circles under her eyes haven’t lightened up at all (and he knows he’s the only one, other than MJ, Harry, and Ned, who actually knows she has them. God forbid any of the other agents find out Gwen Stacy doesn’t sleep well. But she has this image she likes to project, and if that means buying a forty dollar eye concealer for her every so often, then Peter’s fine with it. He understands having people to look at you a certain way).

Anyway. She wakes up and immediately groans because the sun is apparently shining in her eyes, and it needs to be cursed to hell and back before she can wake up properly. 

Honestly, sleepy Gwen is Peter’s favourite Gwen. 

That’s a flat out lie. He loves Gwen all the time. But really, sleepy Gwen is adorable. (Sleepy MJ, on the other hand, in downright terrifying. She would willingly stab someone if it meant getting coffee in any way, shape, or form).

Gwen yawns twice more before actually saying something to Peter. Which Peter is fine with, because he’s content to just watch her curl and mewl and stretch like a cat. In a not creepy way. 

“How long did you let me sleep?” She asks him. 

“Well, it’s about midday now,” Peter says. “You looked like you needed it.”

Gwen glares at him (but the effect is dampened slightly by the fact that her hair looks soft and messy in it’s ponytail, and her cheeks are glowing with the just-woken-up pinkness). “You tell anyone that I need more sleep, and I kill you.”

That was the other thing Peter loved about sleepy Gwen. Casual death threats. 

 

*

 

He forgets to reply to Coulson’s email until that evening. Peter and Gwen had spent the day mostly playing video games, discussing Wade and the girl from the forensics department on the internship (even though SHIELD didn’t really offer internships) that Gwen kind of totally didn’t have a crush on, and watching rom-coms. ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ was one of Gwen’s secret favourites. But don’t tell anyone. 

“Oh!” Peter exclaims, half way through When Harry Met Sally. “MJ said Harry said we should all meet up on Sunday.”

“This Sunday?”

“Yeah. Three, I think,” Peter says, then pulls his laptop towards him. “Let me check.”

He opens it, typing in his password and disabling the other protective measures put in place (some were him, some were SHIELD) and pulling up the mail app. There is another email from MJ, and one from Nick Fury, and the one from Coulson still open. 

Peter clicks on the one from MJ.

 

**To:** [](mailto:PParker.agent@shield.com) **PParker.agent@shield.com  
** **From:** [](mailto:MJones.agent@shield.com) **MJones.agent@shield.com  
** **Delivered: 13:47, 05/30/23**

   Peter,  
   Harry said three is fine. Meet at the usual place. Gwen coming too?  
   Don’t do anything stupid. Like climbing out of a plane.  
   MJ

**Sent from my [Secure Device]**

 

Peter reads it aloud to Gwen, whose smile grows bigger with every word. By the end, she’s nodding. 

“Saturday at three sounds good,” she says. 

So Peter quickly sets about typing a reply. 

 

**To:** [](mailto:MJones.agent@shield.com) **MJones.agent@shield.com  
** **From:** [](mailto:PParker.agent@shield.com) **PParker.agent@shield.com  
** **Delivered: 22:27, 05/30/23**

   MJ  
   Gwen says thats fine. Excited to see everyone again.  
   See you there,  
   Peter  
   PS; no promises on the nothing stupid front. Sorry.

**Sent from my [Secure Device]**

 

It’s probably a SHIELD thing not to disclose specific locations in emails, but Peter’s so used to it now he doesn’t even blink. Even if no one could get past his firewalls in place. 

He taps out a quick email to Coulson (Peter here, sounds good, I’ll reach out to him) before clicking on the email from Fury. Peter automatically tunes Gwen and the film out, glancing up at her once before reading through it. 

 

**To:** [](mailto:PParker.agent@shield.com) **PParker.agent@shield.com  
** **From:** [](mailto:NFury.director@shield.com) **NFury.director@shield.com  
** **Delivered: 14:53, 05/30/23**

   Parker,  
   Got word that you’re getting all buddy buddy with Deadpool. Keep it up. We’re going to need as many angles as possible. Get him to trust you. Then I want you to handcuff him and bring him in. We’ll owe you.  
   Nick Fury

**Sent from my [Secure Device]**

 

Oh, fuck no. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fucking HELL. its been such a long time and i am sos os sos os sos sos so sorry  
> i dont know why its taken me so long but i just.. am feeling really discouraged in my skill as a writer right now. and just generally really stressed. gr. its also really short (1.5k) and i wish it wasnt and i just. ugh.
> 
> anyway, please comment what you thought, and i will try and have the next chapter up asap. 
> 
> i feel like this is definitely a filler, but there are a few things that point to future plot points. like some of the things in the previous chapters (im honestly shocked that only one person picked up on the things, so ill just tell you)
> 
> NATASHA ROMANOV
> 
> oops. there we go. did it.
> 
> see you next time, guys. hopefully sooner. come check out my [tumblr](https://spideysstark.tumblr.com/) if you want.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nat is awesome and supportive, harry might have a girlfriend (we dont know yet) and they get coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy!

****

It takes him a while to calm down enough to reply to Fury’s email. 

Gwen has had to pull him back from storming to Fury’s office with a butter knife more than three times by now, even though she barely seems able to stop herself storming off with him. Which is something, Peter supposes, but he can’t begin to focus on the fact that Gwen finally seems to have warmed up to Wade. Well, only a little bit. But its better than nothing, really.

He just wishes everyone else had warmed up to Wade too. But here Fury was, asking him to betray the only friend he had ever made, aside from Gwen and Ned and MJ and Harry. 

Peter really didn’t know what sort of things ran through Fury’s head, but if he was asking Peter to do this kind of thing, then it must be a pretty dark place.

And Peter would have thought that Fury would know exactly how it feels to have someone you trust betray you. After all, there was the whole Hydra - SHIELD thing. And maybe Peter wasn’t around for that, but he was definitely, definitely around for the aftermatch, because they’re still all recovering from it. He knows that Coulson doesn’t really trust someone until he’s done extensive background checks, and Peter doesn’t want Wade to do that too. Especially not after everything Wade’s already been through.

“Ugh!” Peter yells. “I am so going to  _ kill _ him!”

Someone knocks on his dorm door, and Gwen hops up to open it, rubbing her palm into Peter’s shoulder as she passes him.

Her body blocks the person outside, and Peter only recognises them when they speak. “Kill who?” Natasha Actual Romanoff asks, sounding utterly as if she isn’t discussing murder.

Peter jerks up from his bed and practically leaps over to Gwen, draping himself over her shoulders. Natasha’s red hair is curled around her face, and she’s holding her phone in one hand. The other rests on the gun in the holster around her waist. Peter isn’t sure if it’s a comfort thing or a ‘I don’t know if you’re a threat or not so I’m assuming yes until I know more’ thing.

As soon as she catches sight of him, though, her phone gets put back into a pocket that seems to melt directly into her skin and both her hands seem to twitch towards him slightly.

“Agent Parker,” she says. “I’m assuming you’re the one discussing murder. Who’s murder?”

Peter inhales slowly before muttering, “Nick Fury’s.”   


If Natasha is surprised, she doesn’t show it. Instead she just shrugs and says, “Alright. Why?”

“He wants me to betray my friend,” Peter says.

“Oh, Wade Wilson?” Natasha asks. “Yeah. Coulson told me about that. Tough break. So, are you going to listen to Fury?”

Peter feels his lips curl into a disgusted snarl. “No. No way. Never.”

Natasha raises her right eyebrow so minutely Peter almost misses it. Then he feels proud of himself for noting what has to be one of her very few tells. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” Peter hisses out (he cringes inside, because this is like the third Avenger he’s mouthed off in about three days).

Gwen takes one look at him and says, “Agent Romanoff, maybe you’d like to come in?”

Peter glances at Gwen before nodding. “Sure. Just ignore the mess. We’re teenagers.”   


Natasha steps inside his room, glancing around. “What mess? This is probably the cleanest I’ve ever seen one of these dorms.”   


Peter and Gwen exchange surprised looks behind her back. Really, Peter’s room isn’t that neat. Sure, it isn’t as bad as Gwen’s, but they study in Gwen’s and sleep in Peter’s, so maybe it just makes sense. Peter shrugs at Gwen before turning back to Natasha, who has just finished her slow circle of the room.

“So, why are you here?” Peter asks with a final glance at Gwen before turning his attention fully to Natasha. Her hand has drifted to the gun again, and Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling slightly apprehensive.

Natasha looks towards the door, and then the window, and then straight into Peter’s eyes. “I heard you’re the one who helped us in the giant crab battle. I came to thank you. And congratulate you.”   


“Why..?”

“Because you’re a baby,” she explains, “And already have quite the reputation. Climbing out a plane mid battle, getting shot, building a DNA scanner out of a jet - Coulson’s kind of angry about that, by the way - and then helping to turn the tides in a battle. Not to mention all the rumors going around about how you two got into SHIELD.”   


“What rumors?” Gwen asks.

Natasha shrugs. “On my way here, I heard someone say that one of you killed someone via mind reading bullet and they stuck you here to keep an eye on you and use your talents for good.”   


“I wish that was how it happened,” Peter scoffs. “No. I hacked into the secure servers when I was seventeen and we all got arrested at gun point.”   


“We all?” Natasha asks.

“Me, Gwen, MJ, Ned, and Harry,” Peter says.

Natasha hums. “Friends?”

“Mortal enemies,” Peter tells her. Then kind of regrets it because that brings his snarked-to-an-Avenger counter to a solid four.

Thankfully, she finds the funny side, and turns her lips up. Her right eyebrow twitches again. “Funny,” Natasha says. “Well. Congratulations on the win, Peter. Thanks for helping to save all our asses.”

“Uh- you’re welcome, I guess,” Peter says.

Natasha nods once before turning back to the door and walking towards it. When she has her hand on the handle, she says, “Coulson has a work dinner organised for next week. You can be my plus one, if you want. I’ll pick you up.”

Peter frowns lightly, but nods.

She smiles at him. “See you around, then, baby.”

Peter stares at the door until he can’t hear her receding footsteps anymore. His stomach feels all busy with butterflies again. Different butterflies, not Wade butterflies.

Butterflies like.. He knows her.

But that’s impossible, right? 

Right?

 

*

 

He doesn’t think of it again.

Which is, well, just as well, really. Because Gwen and MJ have both been harassing him about Saturday, and saying he should invite Wade. But he kind of doesn’t want to.

One, because he has no way to contact Wade. And two, it’s their time. And he wants it to be just their time. Wade can come next time.

Gwen’s getting ready in his room, and she keeps trying to spray copious amounts of deodorant on him.

“Gwen, I’m fine, I’ve already used it, I don’t need mo- I’m gonna walk past someone with asthma on the street and they’re going to pass out. Or I’ll walk past a normal person and they’ll pass out too! Now stop it!”

She just giggles and tosses the can onto his bed. “Fine. I’m just excited. It feels like it’s been ages!”   


“It has been ages,” Peter says, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater before checking his watch. “Come on, then. Let’s go.”   


Gwen plucks his phone and her phone from the bed, tucking them both into her bag before grabbing his hand and skipping out the door.

 

*

 

They get to the coffee shop maybe a little early, but MJ is already there, and doing her customary suspicious glance around. She has a bulging rucksack at her feet, which Peter suspects contains either guns or gifts. Or both. You could never tell with MJ.

She waves as soon as she sees them, and Gwen promptly runs over (and almost trips over a table leg and a waitress carrying fresh coffee) on her way to hug her. MJ just grins and squeezes Gwen just as tightly, before opening her arms to Peter too, who goes willingly, because MJ is one, the queen of hugs, and two, really, really warm. 

And Peter is really, really cold. Which is why his glasses have steamed up so much he can barely see. Gwen giggles when he trips over the table leg when he tries to sit down.

“So when are Ned and Harry getting here?” Peter asks, obviously ignoring Gwen.

MJ shrugs. “Well, it’s five to, so they’ll be here soon, I imagine.”   


Gwen nods. “So should we wait for them, or order now?”

“Order now,” MJ scoffs. “They know by now that we don’t wait, so they shouldn’t be late.”   


“Fairs,” Peter says, “I’ll go. Usuals?”

MJ and Gwen both nod, so Peter pushes back his chair and heads up to the counter.

“Hi, what can I get you?” The server asks, in an overly cheerful voice. Her smile is painfully fake, so Peter sends her a real one.

“A regular flat white, a small espresso, and a vanilla milkshake,” Peter orders, mentally checking off.

“Anything else, sir?”

“A slice of… chocolate salted caramel cake?” Peter asks, scanning the glass display case.

“Got it. We’ll bring it over when it’s done,” the server says, “That’ll be fifteen dollars and six cents.”

Peter nods, fishing in his pocket for the correct bills. 

 

*

 

It takes longer than expected for Ned and Harry to turn up, but when they do, Harry’s cheeks are flushed and Ned’s hair tangled.

MJ wolf whistles.

“Oh, shut up, Em,” Harry grumbles, “We were playing a Mario Tournament.”   


“Sure you were,” Gwen says, grinning.

Ned flicks her forearm. “We were. You can even see the bruises.”

Peter, MJ, and Gwen burst out laughing. “Rethink that sentence, buddy,” Peter tells him. 

Ned’s cheeks flush. “I hate all of you. All. Of. You.”   


“Lying makes you go to hell,” Gwen teases, grinning. “It’s good to see you both.”   


“It’s good to see you guys too. Feels like it’s been forever,” Ned says.

“It has been too long,” Harry agrees.

“I wish we could get away from work more often,” MJ says. “But Harry has the company, and we have SHIELD-”   


“And I have video games,” Ned jokes.

Harry exclaims, “Oh! Right, Ned, tell them!”

“Tell them what?” Peter asks.

“I’m launching the company,” Ned says, “I’ve finally got a license to submit games to the App Store, and Google Play Store, and all that. So now I’m able to post my games to the servers. If enough people download them, I’ll be able to start earning money.”   


“No way!” Peter says, grinning. “Ned, that’s awesome.”

“It really is,” Gwen says.

MJ nods. “Yeah. Congrats.”

Ned chuckles. “Yeah. It feels crazy that it’s finally going ahead. So what’s new in SHIELD land.”

“Well,” Gwen says, and starts counting off on her fingers. “Peter got drafted to Somalia, didn’t go because the op leader shot him, hooked up with a murderer in hospital-”   


“-I did not!” Peter interrupts.

“Shush. Then he fought giant mutant seafood with me and his boyfriend in Alaska - it might have been on the news,” Gwen finishes. “And he needs to pass all the initiation exams.”   


“Just so you know, that is not how any of it happened,” Peter says.

“Oh, sure, so you’re pretending you didn’t get shot?” MJ says.

“And you don’t have a boyfriend?” Gwen asks, raising her eyebrows.

“No, I did get shot, but I don’t have a boyfriend,” Peter says. 

“So when do we meet him?” Ned asks, ignoring everything Peter just said.

“Um, never? Because I don’t have a boyfriend?”

“Well, I did ask Peter to invite him out with us, but he didn’t,” Gwen says, pouting.

“Shame,” Harry says. “Who is it?”

“Uh, Wade Wilson?” MJ frowns. “I think, and I don’t approve.”

“Even if we were dating, which we aren't, I wouldn’t need your approval,” Peter says.

“Yes, you would,” Gwen and MJ say in unison.

“Wade Wilson?” Harry repeats. “Deadpool?

MJ nods. 

“Dad has a file on him, in the secure hard drives,” Harry says. “I’ve only seen it once, and not long enough to read it through, but I can try and sneak it out to you if you want.”   


“Norman Osborn has a file on Wade Wilson?” Ned asks.

“Yeah,” Harry says.

Peter frowns. “I’ll hack in and nab it,” He says, “Don’t worry about sneaking it out.”

“If you get it, you cannot let Fury see it, Peter,” Gwen says, “You know what he wants to do to Wade.”

“I know,” Peter nods. “I have you and MJ. It’ll go fine.”

“You’re not dragging me into your problems,” MJ says. “But don’t get hurt, okay?”

“Me, hurt?” Peter scoffs. “Never.”

MJ kicks where the bullet wound is. Peter’s face goes white with pain.

“You are a fucking psychopath,” Peter gasps out.

“Never hurt?” MJ just says, tilting her head.

“Okay, fine. I’ll be fine,” Peter says.”I live at SHIELD. No one will be able to get to me if something goes wrong.”   


“I hope not,” Harry says. “Well, How about you, Em? How’s the job going?”

MJ shrugs. “It’s going. Most of its confidential, but I got to fight Captain America the other day and won.”

“You met Captain America and didn’t tell me?” Peter demands.

“Oh, shush, Pete, you met Tony Stark and Bruce Banner and snapped at them,” Gwen says.

“I didn’t snap, I was just tired, and in pain and Wade had just died in front of me,” Peter says defensively. “He had been shot seventeen times, I think I deserved the right to have a short temper.”   


Gwen giggles. “Right.”

Peter glares and lightly punches her forearm.

“Peter, please,” Ned says, “We made the rules against bodily harm for a reason.”   


“It barely tickled,” Peter grumbles, “But fine. How’s your dad, Harry?”

“As pompous as ever,” Harry groans. “Harry this, Harry that, Harry are you sure you’re ready to take over the company. It’s not like he’s been feeding me the documents and numbers since before I was born. He’s said he wants to see everyone soon, though, so I’ll have to invite you all round for the night.”

“Let me know when and I’ll book the weekend off from ops,” MJ says.

“Mine and Peter’s schedule is a lot more lax,” Gwen says. “They have our emergency contact numbers so we shouldn’t need to book.”   


Peter nods. “Yeah. Sounds good. Get MJ to email me.”

“Or he could email you himself?” MJ suggests. “I know it’s the secure SHIELD email, but really, Pete, with the amount of security you’ve installed, I doubt Einstein himself would be able to get into it.”   


“For a SHIELD agent, you are far too trusting,” Peter sniffs. “No offence, Harry.”   


“None taken,” Harry says.

Ned nudges Harry with an elbow. “Well, maybe we should let Harry tell us about the new girl he found.”   


“Harry got a girlfriend?” Gwen squeals. “Oh, my God!”   


“Harry did not get a girlfriend,” Harry says.

“Yet,” Ned adds. “She totally spent the night last week.”   


“It was late, she needed a place to stay,” Harry mutters.

“And that place was your personal penthouse,” Ned says, “When you have I don’t know how many guest rooms.”   


“How do you know this?” Harry asks instead.

“We were playing team on Mace,” Ned explains. “Mics on.”

Harry groans.

MJ and Gwen burst into peals of laughter. “Did you win the game?” Gwen asks.

Ned shakes his head. “No, but I think Harry did!”

Harry goes red, and Peter chuckles. 

“I hate all of you,” Harry mutters. “Except Peter.”   


“Why except Peter?” MJ asks.

“Because Peter is nicer than you lot,” Harry says.

“Thanks, Harry,” Peter says.

“Not thanks, Harry,” Ned mimics.

Gwen giggles again, and Peter can’t help smiling. It’s a nice day, and the windows of the coffee shop are open, letting a smooth breeze in. It tousles Gwen’s hair every now and then, and the sun makes MJ’s skin look like it’s made of molten gold. It also makes Harry’s freckles stand out, and makes the blue of his eyes look like sea water. Ned can’t seem to stop smiling, and Neither can Peter.

 

*

 

**To:** [](mailto:NFury.director@shield.com) **NFury.director@shield.com  
** **From:** [](mailto:PParker.agent@shield.com) **PParker.agent@shield.com  
** **Delivered: 19:47, 06/03/23**

Director Fury,  
    In regards to your previous email about you wanting me to use a friendship to SHIELD’s advantage and betray someone close to me.  
    I refuse the mission. I refuse to become something that will leech off of the friend whenever they think of me. I refuse to hurt him like that too.  
    If you think you want to go on with the mission, you will have to find someone else to do it. Rest assured that I will be protecting the friend from anything you attempt.  
    Has it occurred to you yet that maybe using violence and betrayal isn’t the best plan of action?  
    Awaiting your response,  
    Peter Parker,  
    An agent who is thoroughly fed up of your bullshit. With all due respect.  
    PS, you can’t expect everyone to be as cold hearted as you are.

**Sent from my [Secure Device]**

 

**To:** [](mailto:PParker.agent@shield.com) **PParker.agent@shield.com  
** **From:** [](mailto:NFury.director@shield.com) **NFury.director@shield.com  
** **Delivered 20:18, 06/03/23**

    Parker,  
    I don’t appreciate the tone of your email. I am a superior officer, whether you want to admit it or not, and if I tell you to do something, you do it.  
    If I ask you to scrub my boots, you do it, because I’ve asked you. You aren’t even a registering agent yet. I trusted you with an assignment I would only trust to a senior agent, and if you wanted to stay in my good books, you would have taken it.  
    I’ll ask again. Agent Parker, I want you to weasel your way into Wade Wilson’s brain and then turn him in to us. You could be saving a lot of people.  
    Nick Fury  
    A director, who expects his orders to be followed through.

**Sent from my [Secure Device]**

 

**To:** [](mailto:NFury.director@shield.com) **NFury.director@shield.com  
** **From** [](mailto:PParker.agent@shield.com) **PParker.agent@shield.com  
** **Delivered: 21:34, 06/03/23**

    Fury  
    I would rather be fired and killed than betray my friends.  
    Respectfully, fuck you.  
    Agent Parker

**Sent from my [Secure Device]**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like it's a bit of a nothing chapter but whatever. comment what you thought of it anyway. please? 
> 
> you can check out my [tumblr](https://spideysstark.tumblr.com) if you wanna, like, see the website i spend seventy percent of my time on.
> 
> anyway, next update will be up as soon as i, you know, write it. i guess. obviously. see you there.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the plot thickens, and angst, and feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol. enjoy.

****

Peter goes to sleep after sending that email. Alone, in his own bed, because Gwen’s sleeping in her own room (for once) and she’s taken all of her (and half of Peter’s) study material with her. The bed, the room, and Peter’s arms all feel empty without her, which makes Peter grimace because that sounds frighteningly co-dependant. Which is kind of frowned upon in SHIELD.

Co-dependency, he means. Not frighteningly or grimacing. Actually, those are kind of encouraged. Honestly, having people like Natasha Romanov (butterflies. Again. Why. He does not get it) and Clint Barton (even though Barton is kind of the comic relief of their whole dynamic) working within the same organisation as you sort of makes you want to work on your interrogation techniques.

For the record, Peter is good at neither interrogation nor instilling fright in his meager list of enemies. You know, he’s the tech guy. As the tech guy, he doesn’t have as many frenemies as MJ does. He’s working on it.

He’s working on the fright and interrogation thing, by the way. Not the mortal enemy thing. That would be kind of bad for him.

Although, you know, hanging out with someone like Deadpool probably means he’ll have a few more to add to his embarrassingly short list.

Well, it shouldn’t be embarrassing, really. Having fewer enemies is a good thing. But when working somewhere like SHIELD, where the more enemies you have, the better respected you are, it makes it kind of sucky. But not sucky. But a little bit.

Peter’s tired, and his arms are empty (which shouldn’t feel weird but does) so he goes to sleep feeling confused and angry and exhausted.

 

_ There’s a woman holding him, cradling his body to her. He feels about six, maybe five. He can’t see her very clearly, but there’s enough light in their broom closet of a room to determine her eyes are sort of green, and her hair looks brown but it probably isn’t.  _

_ It sounds kind of like she’s singing to him, but he can’t really make out the words, and it feels like she’s crying. Peter reaches up his hand and brushes the tears from her cheeks, which only makes her cry harder. _

_ “Oh, baby,” she says, tangling a hand in the curls on the back of his head and holding him to her, “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I’ll find you. I promise. I’ll find you.” _ _  
_

_ Someone’s hammering on the door of their room, yellling something in a language Peter doesn’t yet understand. _

_ The woman does though, because she yells something out in the same language. Then she hiccups and dries her tears and says, “I love you, baby. I always will.” _ _  
_

_ The door gets shoved open, and people are crowding into the room. Someone tears the woman away from him, shoving her hands into handcuffs and pulling her back, while someone grabs Peter roughly.  _

_ The woman screams, shouting, “I’ll come back for you, baby! I will! Always! I love you, baby, don’t forget that! Don’t forget!” She’s struggling in the arms of whoever has her, but they’re pulling her away, away from him. _

_ It hurts, but Peter’s too young to recognise heart break. _

 

He wakes up sweating and breathing heavily.

The comforter has tangled itself around his legs in a mildly constricting knot, and Peter’s shaking hands take longer than they normally would to untie it. His breath feels faint in his chest, and his heart feels fluttery and stuck in his throat.

He doesn’t think he can go back to sleep now, and he doesn’t want to wake Gwen up. Thankfully, it’s about five in the morning, so he just pulls out his laptop, opens YouTube and plays Lollipop by Mika till he can actually feel his heart rate again.

 

*

 

He’s so wrapped up in the music that when someone picks the lock on his door and opens it and sneaks inside, he doesn’t even really notice.

Right up until the person pelts a rubber Nerf dart at his head.

“What the fuck- Wade?” Peter exclaims. “What are you doing here?”

Wade holds his right index finger to his lips and taps the left one to the side of his nose. “Secret. Being chased. By SHIELD. I don’t think I’m really supposed to be here?”

“Then why  _ are _ you here?”

“Because I need somewhere to hide?” Wade says, as if it’s obvious.

“And you thought the best place to do that would be, what, my room?” Peter asks. “Seriously?”

“You’re an agent, honey bunches, they’ll listen to you. Besides your window is in the best place for jumping out of.”   


“You’re not jumping out of my window, Wade,” Peter says. “Seriously. Look, get in my closet they’ll be coming down soon and I’ve disabled all of the cameras in here so you’ll be probably untrackable.”

“They put cameras in their agents’ rooms?” Wade gasps, but allows Peter to shove him inside his closet, thankfully shutting up as soon as the door is closed.

Not five minutes later does someone knock on his door.

“Open!” Peter calls, pulling his laptop closing to him and opening a book.

Natasha and Clint poke their heads through, Natasha like a normal person, and Clint balancing beneath her. “Hey, Peter,” Natasha says, “Have you seen Deadpool around here?”

Peter shakes his head no, “No, sorry. Are you looking for him?”

(Natasha knows he’s lying, if the right eyebrow twitch is anything to go by, but she doesn’t say anything). “Yeah, we are. He’s broken in and landed three agents in the med wing.”

Peter frowns. “Wow. I’ll let you know if I see him?”

“Okay. Thanks, Peter,” Natasha says. “Try not to get in his way, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agrees.

He waits until he can no longer hear Clint skipping down the hall, and then let’s Wade out. “Three agents, huh?” He says.

Wade ignores him. “Why do you lock your door? I mean, there’s not really any point. It’s very easy to pick.”   


“Yes,” Peter says dryly, “You did demonstrate earlier.”   


Wade shrugs. “I guess so. Why’d you lie for me?”

“Why’d you come here looking for me?”

“Fair point,” Wade says, “It does look like I’m the one who dragged you into this.”   


“You are the one who dragged me into this!”   


“Not my fault your room is the one with the best window,” Wade retorts defensively. They both turn to stare at the window for a minute (it is pretty nice, Peter thinks. Facing east, which means the sunrise always shines through and big enough that Peter doesn’t have to stand on his tiptoes to look out).

“My window is not the point of this conversation,” Peter says finally. “Not the point at all.”   


“What is the point then?” Wade asks.

“The point is why you thought running away from scary SHIELD agents into my room was a good idea,” Peter says.

“But you’re a scary SHIELD agent too, baby boy,” Wade says, forward rolling onto Peter’s bed and sprawling on it.

Peter snorts. “Yeah. No. Not really.”

“You’re not a scary SHIELD agent?” Wade frowns.

“I’m not even a registered SHIELD agent yet,” Peter says, “and do I look scary to you?”

Wade hums, scrutinizing Peter’s face. “I guess not. Cute, unregistered SHIELD agent?”

Peter huffs, deliberately ignoring the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Sure. Why did you come here anyway?”

“Didn’t we just discuss that?”

“No, I don’t think you’ve told me yet,” Peter says, jabbing Wade’s shins with his toe. “Scoot up.”   


Wade does, wriggling like a tadpole till Peter can fit on the bed too. “Scooted.”   


“So, why are you infiltrating SHIELD?” Peter asks, settling on the bed. He’s kind of pressed up really close against Wade.

“For funsies,” Wade replies. “And I missed fighting with Cinderella.”   


“Cinder-? You mean Gwen?”

“How many other blondes do you know?” Wade asks, “Actually, wait, don’t answer that. I don’t think my heart could take it.”   


“All.. right. Why did you miss fighting with her? What about me?”

“Well, obviously I missed you, snuggle bunny,” Wade says. “Silly.”

“Obviously,” Peter agrees. “Still haven’t told me why you’re infiltrating SHIELD.”   


“I was looking for the data banks,” Wade says, “I want to check and purge my file.”

“The data banks? Wade, they’re online,” Peter tells him.

“Fuck!” Wade yells. “Fuck. What?”   


“Yeah. They might have physical copies somewhere but as far as I know, it’s all online, in severely protected banks. They updated all the security five years back,” Peter says.

“Isn’t that when you joined SHIELD?”

Peter nods. “Yeah. Um, well, actually they changed the security because of me.”   


Wade sits up so quickly Peter gets whiplash. “ _ What? _ ”

“Have I not told you this yet?” Peter muses. “You must have heard some of it. I swear sometimes it’s the only thing people talk about.”   


“Well, if you tell me what they’re talking about I might get it- oh, my God! You! You’re the one who hacked them!” Wade exclaims. “Oh, my God, no way! Seriously? Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Peter says. “But if you want to check your file, I can do it.”   


Wade squeals. “Really? How?”

“Well, I had a hand in redesigning the safety measures. I’d have been stupid not to leave a little back door, wouldn’t I?”

Wade nods seriously. “So can you really?”

“They won’t even be able to detect me. They haven’t yet, anyway.”

“Won’t they realise something’s up when everything in Deadpool’s file gets removed? They know we’re in cahoots, they’ll want to question you.”

Peter scoffs. “Interrogations are a piece of cake. Besides, it’ll be fine. Promise.”

“What interrogations have you been RSVP-ing to, snuggle bug?” Wade asks, “They aren’t cake. Well, mine aren’t, anyway.”

“How many people have you interrogated, then?” Peter asks, pulling his laptop towards him.

“More than you have hairs on your head,” Wade says.

“Shit,” Peter says, “You sure you want to do this?”

“Sure. I’ll take all the blame if I need to.”   


“You don’t need to do that,” Peter says, opening up the link to the databases.

“Well, if we get caught it’ll be my fault for asking you to do this,” Wade says, “Ergo, I should take the blame.”

Peter just shakes his head, tapping in his log in. None of the higher-ups have yet realised that Peter’s account actually has clearance for, well, everything on there. Most students (Gwen) only have level five clearance, at best.

Peter’s is ten.

“Here,” he says a minute later, “File, Deadpool.”

**File Type: A-DF76  
** **Name: Wilson, Wade  
** **Codename: Deadpool  
** **Abilities: Regenerative healing, immortality  
** __      [Abilities gained after getting kidnapped and tortured via Weapon X. Weapon X team are deceased, killed by Deadpool]  
**Age: approx. 30  
** **Birth date: unknown  
** **Birthplace: Canada  
** **Height: 6 feet, one inch  
** **Eye colour: Blue  
** **Hair colour: Blond  
** **Gender: Male  
** __       [Frequently references the multiverse theory, planting the possibility of a female Deadpool. If this is confirmed, she will be arrested as soon as possible and put into custody for questioning]  
**Species: Human  
** __      [Debatable. Biologically human, despite his mutation]

“What are you looking for?” Peter asks.

“Just making sure they haven’t updated it recently,” Wade says.

Peter hums, clicking on the ‘recent revisions’ button. “Nothing,” he says, “It was last edited about three months ago.”

“What did they put?” Wade asks.

“Three months ago? Uh, it’s under, um, missions log?”

“I’ve never been on a SHIELD mission,” Wade says, frowning slightly. “Click on it.”   


Peter does.

**Mission Log  
** **Wilson has refused to work for SHIELD on multiple occasions. In an effort to evade them, he’s killed at least seventeen and injured five. For full report, see** **here** **.**

Peter doesn’t bother clicking the link.

**Director Nick Fury has decided the best plan of action is to bring him into custody.  
** **He’s employed Agent Peter Parker to arrest Wilson, after the two met in SHIELD med bay and became friends. (See** **here** **for transcripts of their conversations. See** **here** **for Parker’s SHIELD history).  
** **So far, Parker has refused to comply with the Director’s orders. Measures will be taken. In the mean time, anyone who has a chance to handcuff Wilson is recommended to take it.**

“I-” Peter starts.

“What the fuck?” Wade interrupts. “What the fuck? You were going to, what, kidnap me?”

“What? No! No, Wade, never!” Peter exclaims.

Wade ignores him, shoving off the bed and almost knocking Peter’s laptop to the ground. “Wow. I just- Wow. See you, Parker. This is bullshit.”

He punches Peter’s window till it cracks, then takes a running jump at it. It shatters with the force of Wade’s muscle, and he flies out of it. Peter doesn’t bother to check if Wade landed okay, he’s fairly certain Wade knows how to land in a roll.

There’s a burst of gunshots, but no screams. And then there’s the intruder alarm, and the sound of soldiers running down the corridors.

Peter just sits in shattered glass, ignores the tacky blood on his cheek (from where a shard hit him. It’s probably still in there, if the way it feels like it’s pulsing is any indicator). He tries not to burst into tears, but its hard, because he knew this is what would happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know. i guess we finally see more plot? 
> 
> im feeling more confident in my writing abilities now. finally getting out of my slump. thank fuck. hopefully this means my writers block lifts and updates become a lot more often.
> 
> comment what you thought, or go send something into my inbox over of my [tumblr](https://spideysstark.tumblr.com) if thats more your speed.
> 
> i also wanna thank literally everyone whos ever commented i love ALL OF YOU so MUCH. your comments give me the strength to keep writing this. 
> 
> as for now though, im gonna have to ask you to choose between a cop au, or a nurse au (in terms of what i write next. ship to be decided.)


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wade disappears, gwen and mj are badasses, and gwen has big news. biiiig news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

****

“What’s got you so down in the dumps?” MJ asks, letting herself into Peter’s dorm and flopping on his bed.

“What gave you the right to break into my dorm?” Peter asks, trying not to sound pissy but ultimately failing.

MJ picks up on it too, so she raises her eyebrows. “Friend rights, that’s what. Now why are you grumping?”

“I’m not grumping,” Peter says, “I don’t even know why you think I am.”

MJ scoffs, utterly unimpressed. “You have half baked Ben and Jerry’s and ‘Sex in the City’ on, which is your ‘I need help’ food and movie. What happened? Boy troubles?”

Peter hmphs.

“Boy troubles, then. What’s Wade done now?”

“What makes you think Wade’s done anything?” Peter asks.

“Look at you, Pete,” MJ says, sounding exasperated. “Please. Tell me what happened, before Gwen comes in here.”

Peter sighs. “Fine,” He spins his laptop round to face her, so she can read Wade’s mission log.

“What- Oh. Oh, shit,” she says, “Shit.”   


“Yeah.”

“I have a couple of questions. One being, why did you hack into SHIELD again? Two, how did you hack into SHIELD again? Three is, you didn’t agree to this mission from Fury, right?” MJ asks.

“Hacked into because Wade wanted to check his file. And I helped code the new defences, do you really think I wouldn’t have left a back door open? I might work for SHIELD, but that doesn’t mean I trust them,” Peter says, “And are you stupid? Of course I didn’t take it. I- Wade’s my friend. I don’t want to hurt him like that.”

“Okay,” MJ says, “I’d really like to punch the Director now.”   


“You and me both,” Peter mutters.

 

*

 

“Anybody up?” Gwen asks, knocking on the door.

“Yep,” Peter calls, untangling his legs from MJ’s and pausing the Friends episode on his laptop. “Em’s here. And you do have my spare key, you can just let yourself in.”

“What if you’re naked?” Gwen says, opening the door.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before,” MJ says, waving at her. Gwen smiles back, moving around till she can kiss MJ’s forehead and ruffle Peter’s hair.

“How come I don’t get a kiss?” Peter asks.

Gwen rolls her eyes, but grabs his cheeks in her hands and presses a kiss to his lips. “Happy?”

Peter giggles. “Very.”

MJ smiles too. “Wanna watch with us?”

Gwen shakes her head. “Nope. Gotta revise. Anyway, how come you’re in Sci-Tech? And why didn’t you come see me first?”

“Because I knew you’d turn up here at some point anyway,” MJ says, “You’re getting predictable, blondie.”   


“Oh, shush,” Gwen says, “You’re just a mind reader.”

Peter groans. “You can’t both be mind readers.”

“Who said we’re mind readers?” MJ asks, “We just know you better than you know yourself.”

“If you weren’t my friends, that would be creepy as fuck,” Peter says.

“Good thing we’re best buds, then,” Gwen says, flopping on top of Peter’s legs.

“Well, I wouldn’t use that terminology. I’m not twelve,” Peter tells her, sticking his foot out so he can jab the space bar with his big toe and play the episode.

“Hm,” Gwen hums. “What would you use then?”

Peter shrugs. “I don’t know. Open to suggestions?”

“Well, when we get Ned and Harry here, we could be the Spice Girls,” MJ says. 

“You think?” Peter grimaces. “Who’s who, then?”

“Well, I’m Scary, obviously,” MJ says. “Gwen can be Sporty. Harry’s Posh, Ned’s Baby, and you’re Ginger.”

“Why’s Harry Posh?” Peter asks.

MJ shrugs. “Why not? You got a better match?”

“Well, not really. You sound like you’ve put a lot of thought into this, though,” Peter says.

“Yeah, well. What other legendary bands can I compare us to?” MJ says.

“One Direction?” Gwen suggests, and Peter laughs.

“Who would be who in One Direction, then?” He asks.

“Well, you’re definitely Harry, Peter,” MJ says.

“I am?”

“You are,”  Gwen agrees. “We’ll have to think about the others.”

“Don’t spend too long on it,” someone says from the doorway. “I’d hate to have to report one of you for slacking.”   


“Roma- Ms- Agent Romanov!” Gwen exclaims.

“Uh-” Peter starts. “Um, what are you- Why did you pick my lock?”

“You weren’t answering my knocks,” Natasha says, shrugging. “Anyway, I needed to speak to you,” she points at Peter. “Fury wants a meeting. Don’t know why, but I’m guessing it’s about the Deadpool thing. Also, I know he was in your room the other day. Well done on managing to lie to me.”   


“Uh- Um, thanks?” Peter says.

“What Deadpool thing? What about Wade?” Gwen asks.

“Show you later,” Peter tells her.

“Show her?” Natasha raises an eyebrow. “The information is classified, and as far as I know, you don’t have access to it.”

“I uh, I don’t have access to it. Access schmaccess, right? I’ve never seen the information. I don’t even know what mission it is- yes, I do, I was asked to complete it, I- uh, I-” Peter says.

MJ jabs her elbow into his stomach. 

“I have no idea how you managed to lie the other day without self combustion,” Natasha says, somewhat incredulously. 

Gwen groans a long suffering groan. “I know, right? He’s terrible.”

“Well, for a SHIELD agent,” MJ allows. “For a normal human, he could pass pretty well.”

“Gee, thanks, Em,” Peter says, knocking his shoulder into her.

She deliberately ignores the sarcasm. “You’re welcome.”

Peter rolls his eyes at her. “So, Agent Romanov-”   


“Call me Natasha,” Natasha interrupts. “Agent Romanov is so formal.”

“Natasha, then,” Peter says, trying to sound casual but probably not succeeding. “Um, anything else you wanted?”

Natasha shrugs. “Do you mind if I email you?”

“You don’t know my email,” Peter says.

“It’s not hard to figure out. Peter Parker, Agent, SHIELD,” Natasha says. “Also, you should get a better door lock.”   


With that, she turns and exits his room, shutting the door behind her. Peter represses the urge to yell ‘maybe I wouldn’t have to if people stopped picking it’ after her.

“Jesus,” MJ says.

 

*

 

“Peter!” Gwen yells, hammering on his door at a time so earlier in the morning, it makes Peter feel sick. “Peter, wake up, you idiot, I figured it out!”

Peter opens the door with sleepy eyes, sleepy hair, and sleepy hands. “Fuck you,” he says, and even his voice sounds sleepy. “I was warm. And asleep.”

“I don’t  _ care _ ,” Gwen insists. “I need your laptop.”

“What? Why?”

“I need your back door. It’s big, Peter. B-I-G.”   


“What is going on, Gwen?” Peter asks, blinking the sleep from his eyes and taking his glasses from her when she holds them out. “It’s early. The sun isn’t even awake yet. And you haven’t even told me what you need my laptop for.”

“Okay, well, I was checking the mission databases to see if there was anything new on there-”

“About Wade?” Peter interrupts.

“-Yeah, but I didn’t find anything about Wade. I did find stuff on Agent Romanov, though.”

“Okay? And this affects me because?”

“Peter, are you thick?” Gwen asks, exasperated. “Look. First time we hacked into SHIELD. There were links to Black Widow’s and the Winter Soldier’s file on yours. And I can’t believe we forgot about this till now, but have you ever rechecked your file?”

“No? Gwen, look, I’m too tired for this right now,” Peter says, “Come back when I can actually process what you’re saying.”   


Gwen clenches her fists and squeezes her eyes shut for a second. “Peter, please. Look. I looked at her file, and I really think your should read it.”   


Peter sighs. He’s tired, and cold now, since Gwen has taken his bed and his blankets, and his laptop. The sun is only just turning the sky red now, and the night security is being relieved. Peter shakes his head in his ‘whatever’ gesture and says, “Sure. But I’m going back to sleep, so I’ll read it tomorrow morning.”

“That’s the best I’m gonna get, isn’t it?” Gwen says. “Okay. Go back to sleep, and I’m going to keep looking while you sleep, then. I’m using your laptop, so I hope you don’t have anything inappropriate on here.”   


“Do you really think I’d have something inappropriate on my laptop?” Peter asks, pulling of his glasses and kicking at Gwen’s side till she moves over. 

“You’re right,” Gwen says, sliding over to the end of his bed. “You’re definitely a polaroid kind of guy.”   


Peter pretends not to hear, and she settles at his feet. The sound of her fast typing is kind of calming, and the soft red-pink of the sky makes a nice night light. He’s asleep before he knows it.

 

*

 

He wakes approximately four hours later, when the sun is actually up, and Gwen isn’t so hyped. Glancing at the screen of his laptop, it’s evident she had fished through his Doctor Who box sets and binged season four. His main light isn’t on, but the bedside lamp is, and Gwen has gotten two styrofoam cups of black coffee from the canteen. They must still be hot, because they’re steaming, but Gwen is nowhere to be seen.

Peter frowns, pushing the covers back. He’s still tired, but not as sleepy as he was when Gwen first came in.

Speaking of Gwen, she opens his door then and smiles when she sees he’s awake. “Morning. Sorry about last night. Also sorry for raiding your DVD collection.”   


“It’s your collection as much as mine,” Peter says. “Don’t worry. You brought coffee with you and that’s all the apology I need.”

“Got the shitty cereal bars from the vending machine outside of the computer lab, too,” Gwen says, holding up the bars.

“You went all the way down to computers?” Peter asks.

“You were asleep, Peter, I had to occupy my time with something,” Gwen says. “Cereal bars seemed to do it.”

Peter chuckles, reaching out for on. She hands him a peanut butter and chocolate chip bar, which he examines thoroughly (and makes note of the best before date) before opening it and sniffing. Smells fine, even if it is a little stale. Tastes fine, too. Even if it’s chewier than it should be.

“So, what did you wake me up for last night?”

“This,” Gwen says, pulling his laptop towards her and tapping something on it. Then she spins it towards him.

“I found it last night, like I said, when I was looking for info on Wade. I found your file linked, and I realised we hadn’t checked any of ours since senior year. So I clicked on it, obviously still the same stuff as always, only more detailed since we work here now. 

“Then I found the parts about family. And you remember how the related files to yours were Black Widow and the Winter Soldier?”

“Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanov,” Peter says, nodding along. “So what? I still don’t get what this has to do with me.”

“Peter,” Gwen asks. “How are Bucky Barnes and Natasha Romanov connected to you and your file?”

Peter takes a deep breath in but gets stuck somewhere around the exhale.. “I-”

“I know,” Gwen continues, “None of us ever questioned it, did we? Well, we did, but we got arrested before we could check it out. And I only just realised now. And so I checked. And Peter-”

Peter frowns, tugging the laptop towards him to scroll down his file. “So where are they connected to me?”

Gwen sighs. “Look, Peter,” she reaches over to take his hands. “I- Look, I’m sorry about it, okay? It won’t be easy.”

“What won’t be easy, Gwen? You’re being really cryptic.”   


“Peter, it’s-"

Peter glances at her before taking his right hand out of her grip and scrolling down.

Her fingers tap a staccato rhythm on the back of his hand, and it kind of makes him nervous. Gwen’s acting weird. Like, her not normal weird. Her something-is-wrong-and-I-don’t-want-you-to-get-hurt weird.

“Gwen..” Peter asks, locking onto her eyes. “What could be so bad that you’re this nervous?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO U SEE WHAT IM GETTING AT
> 
> theres the vaguest drop of actual plot in this, and i dont know how i feel about it. hm.
> 
> i feel like peter and friends are definitely all far too close to each other. which is why gwens kiss doesnt actually mean anything. maybe in another universe, they could have been together, but in this one it is purely a platonic kiss. also know a lot of people have been wondering if peter has feelings for nat (because he gets butterflies around her). they're not 'crush butterflies'! they're butterflies that will get explained very soon.
> 
> i dont know how much ill write at the weekend, i might take a little break from google docs. but ill have chap 12 up as soon as humanely possible, okay? ive also decided i need to stop apologising for late updates. so we're trying that.
> 
> please give me feed back! i hope im not moving it along too quickly. i mean, we're at about 40k now, aren't we, so its not too early? i hope? yeah.
> 
> see you next time! or come check out my [tumblr](https://spideysstark.tumblr.com) if you feel like it. scream at me in my inbox, or come be my friend! or do neither, if thats how you roll.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> peter is shellshocked, and he has great friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fucking hate this chapter dont i. lets hope u dont

****

“Oh,” is about all Peter can manage.

“Yeah,” Gwen says. “I know. I know.”

“I- We need to call MJ. And Ned, and Harry,” Peter says. “I need to talk to them.”   


“Right,” Gwen nods. “Good idea. I’ll call Em. We should.. Talk to Romanov, too. See if she knows about it.”

“I just can’t believe it,” Peter says, leaning back till he can rest his head on the wall. “It’s crazy.”

“Yeah. A little bit,” Gwen agrees.

“A lot a bit,” Peter says.

Gwen nods, patting his knee and pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Let me call them. Speaker?”

“Yeah,” Peter says.

She taps onto their group chat on the app Ned had coded for them (the one only they had, the one with high def sound and imaging) and pressed the video call.

“Gwen?” MJ is the first to answer, and she looks almost as tired as Peter feels. There’s a stack of seven styrofoam coffee cups behind her, which couldn’t be more MJ if she tried. “And Peter. What’s up? What happened?”

“Wait till Ned and Harry log in,” Gwen says, “It’s only worth explaining once.”

MJ nods, and Peter watches her eyes scan over the two of them, checking for physical injury.

“Hey, guys,” Harry says, running a hand through his hair as the video connects. “What happened?”

“We’re waiting till Ned,” MJ explains. “I think it’s something to do with Peter, and he might need hugs after it.”   


“You’re far too observant for your own good,” Peter says, hating how he sounds so choked up. It’s not like he’s going to cry over this, he’s not.

“Okay. I think he was up early for some meeting with a game manufacturer or something, so I don’t know when he’ll be back,” Harry says.

“It’s only nine,” Gwen says. 

Harry shrugs. “He’s a big business man now, isn’t he? Not like you lot.”

“Bit like you,” Peter says, “Mr Osborn.”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah. You alright, Pete?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, listing into Gwen’s side.

“He’s shaken up,” Gwen tells them. “Big news.”

“Ughhhhh,” Ned groans, as soon as his call connects. “What’s up?”

“News,” MJ says, “You okay, Ned? You look exhausted.”   


“I am exhausted. What news?” Ned says.

“Right,” Gwen starts. “Right. You remember five years back, when we were getting arrested for hacking SHIELD?”

“How could I forget?” Harry asks, dryly.

Gwen smiles at him. “Yeah. Well, you remember Peter’s file?”

“Not well,” Ned says.

“Figured,” Gwen continues. “But there were two other files linked to his. Black Widow’s, and the Winter Soldier’s.”

“I don’t know what this has to do with Peter,” Harry says, frowning.

Peter sighs heavily, turning his head until his forehead rests on Gwen’s shoulder. Then, he says, “Parents.”

“What?” Ned asks.

“No,” gasps MJ.

Gwen shrugs. “Yeah. SHIELD seem to think they’re his biological parents. So I read through the DNA files, and you know, it could be a match. There’s files on Mary and Richard Parker, apparently Mary was a SHIELD agent, Richard was a SHIELD scientist. It all checks out,” she says. “It’s just.. A lot to process.”   


“Damn right,” Harry breathes. “Holy shit, Peter. How’re you feeling?”

Peter shrugs. “Just tired. I don’t even know how to feel about it. Like, does she know? Does Natasha know? Should I talk to her about it? Or wait for her to confront me, or wait for Fury or Coulson to talk to me about it? And I don’t even know what to do about the Winter Soldier. I don’t even know where he is right now. I mean, I know Captain America is looking for him, but I don’t have access to any of those mission files. And I just.. Yeah. No idea how to even begin feeling for this.”   


“I don’t blame you, man,” Ned says. “This is tough. Do you want me and Harry to sneak our way in?”

Peter shakes his head. “It’s okay. I have Gwen and MJ. We’ll call with updates every evening.”   


“I would print the file, but then the higher ups would find Peter’s back door, and I don’t know who would be able to access it out of the data bases,” Gwen says. “But it’s.. You know. Hard for Peter. His world has been turned on it’s head."   


“Not surprised,” MJ says. “I can’t believe none of us noted that.”

“But we did,” Gwen says, “Only we were too busy getting arrested, and interrogated, and hired to check it out.”

“Shit,” Harry huffs, almost laughing incredulously.

“Damn fucking right,” Peter mutters. 

“This is an entire fucking mess,” MJ says, “Listen, I’ll get someone to jet me over to Sci-Tech tomorrow, and I’ll go talk to Romanov with you, Peter.”

“And me,” Gwen huffs. “I’m one hundred percent going too.”

Peter smiles. “Okay. Thanks, guys.”   


“Well, make sure you keep Ned and I in the loop, yeah?” Harry says.

“Of course, Haz,” Gwen says, “See you later, guys.”

“Bye. Love you, Pete,” Harry says.

“Yeah. See you,” Ned says.

Ned ends his call first, and Harry only seconds after. Gwen waves at MJ. “Bye, Em. Come by later.”   


“‘Course I will,” MJ says, “Good luck, Peter.”

“Thanks Emmy,” Peter says, then reaches out a hand to poke the end call button.

Once Gwen has clicked her phone off, Peter flops back against the pillows. “I just want to sleep for fucking ever,” he moans.

Gwen flops down next to him, pushing her head onto his chest. “Shit. Have you been working out?”

Peter chokes out a laugh. “Gotta keep my stamina up, don’t I? No idea what might happen the next time I get shot, do I?”

“Too soon to joke about it,” Gwen mumbles, pushing up to frown at him.

“Sorry,” Peter says. “Why, do you not want me to work out?”   


“Hell yeah I do. Are you stupid, Peter? I can work this to my advantage. Soon you’ll be strong enough to carry me everywhere,” Gwen says.

Peter laughs again. “Thanks, Gwen.”   


She smiles into his shoulder. “I’m your best friend, Pete. Its what I do.”

“Yeah, but you just do it, you know. Really well,” Peter shrugs. “Thanks.”   


“I reiterate,” Gwen says, “I’m your best friend. I know exactly how to deal with you. Admittedly, these circumstances are some that I have no idea how to navigate, but that’s why we’re doing it together. If she ends up being a shitty mom, I will kill her for you.”   
  


*

 

“Knock, knock, you fucking dogs,” MJ says, letting herself into Peter’s room.

“What is it with people and picking my locks?” Peter asks, shoving Gwen off of his shoulder and sitting up.

“You guys were sleeping? Sorry,” MJ says, “And you live in a SHIELD facility. Its naive of you to think any of these guys can see a locked lock and leave it alone.”

Peter hums. “True. Gwen’ll wake up soon.”   


MJ scoffs. “No, she won’t. Come here, though. You look like you need a hug.”   


His smile is watery, but he crawls over to her willingly, and pretends to ignore the sympathetic noise in the back of her throat. When Peter lets his face fall onto her shoulder, he feels tears soak through her t-shirt but can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed about it.

“Oh, Peter,” MJ murmurs. “If they end up finding the Soldier, and they make terrible parents, I’ll kill them for you.”   


“I already bagsied Romanov,” Gwen says.

“Oh, good morning, sleeping beauty,” MJ says, “And fine. I get the Soldier, then.”

Peter chuckles wetly. “What if I want one of them?”

He feels more than sees them exchange glances. “Fine,” MJ says eventually. “You can help us.”   


“Wow. Thanks, Em,” Peter says.

MJ sniffs. “You’re welcome,” then she chuckles. “No, I’m kidding. If you want both of them, you get both of them, you know?”

He must still sound tearful, because suddenly Gwen is there and crowding his back. “Pete, if you don’t wanna talk to her, you don’t have to. It can be our secret.”   


“No,” Peter says, “No. I have to. I won’t be able to look her in the eyes if I don’t.”   


MJ chuckles. “Honestly? Me neither.”   


Gwen nods against his neck. “Yeah. So, where’s Wade got to?”

Peter kind of freezes.

“Oh, fucking hell, what’s he done?” Gwen demands. “What did he do? You get Romanov, Peter, I’m going to fucking murder him.”   


Peter huffs an almost laugh. “It’s okay. Kind of my fault. You know that thing Fury asked me to do? Yeah, Wade saw that. And jumped to the wrong conclusions. And hasn’t been back since.”

“You haven’t looked for him?”

“I- No. I don’t really want to see him lying dead in some alleyway full of piss,” Peter says. “I just.. I don’t know, Gwen. I- Yeah.”   


“Does Em know?” Gwen asks.

“What, know that Peter like-likes Deadpool?” MJ asks, “Yeah. You’d have to be blind not to see it.”   


Peter sighs heavily. “Yeah. I think I love him.”   


“Now, I’m not saying I like you two together,” Gwen says, “But honestly? I do think he could be good for you. When he’s not fuck knows where, doing fuck knows what.”

“What she said,” MJ says. “I think we just don’t want you to get hurt. And you obviously already have been. And I hate that. We love you, Pete, and if you love him, we’re not going to stop you. But we are going to probably have to stab him at least once each.”   


“Gwen’s already done that,” Peter mutters.

“She has?” MJ sounds surprised.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Gwen asks. “I can be a badass too. He was being an asshole, so I sorted him out.”   


“He sorted you out too,” Peter reminds her.

“Oh, shush you.”   


“I never doubted that you could be a badass,” MJ says, “Just.. Never expected you to act on it.”

Gwen frowns. “I’d do anything for Peter.”   


“Oh, stop it,” Peter grumbles. “You don’t need to have a dick measuring contest. I love you both, okay?”

MJ and Gwen look at each other, and Peter can’t deciphering it. “Okay,” Gwen says finally. “Okay.”

Peter hums. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Let’s watch shitty reality TV and think about how to convince Natasha freaking Romanov that she’s my fucking mother.”   


“How crazy is that?” MJ asks, dropping onto his carpet and grabbing his laptop. “It’s not even happening to me, and I can’t believe it.”   


“It  _ is _ happening to me, and I can’t believe it either,” Peter mutters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate this so much  
> so  
> much
> 
> ugh. comment how you found it. i feel like its too fast, and badly written. and just. ugh. im losing inspo for this fic and i really dont want to. i want to be able to finish it for all of you, but writing it takes me ages. the concept was cool. it worked in theory. in practice, i hate it. im sorry.
> 
> check out my [tumblr](https://spideysstark.tumblr.com) if you want. im taking prompts over on there, if you wanna inbox me anything.
> 
> love you all the same. ill let you know if i decide to abandon this or not.


	14. not an update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> but just as important

hey everybody. 

wow. okay so. one, the reaction to this has shocked me (who knew so many people would want to read about peter being a shield agent?). two, all your comments mean the world to me. thank you. 

i just.. i feel like i need to let everybody know this.

ive been trying to keep updates to once a week (or less). but im losing inspiration and motivation for this story. 

BUT i dont want to abandon it completely. thats the last thing i want to do. 

so this is just to let you know that updates will probably come a lot less often. but im going to do my best to see this work through to the end. 

ive got a load of wips on the go, so look forward to some of them appearing here and there. 

again, thank you all so much for the response. i love you.

**Author's Note:**

> AHH! i have so many ideas for this. it has been bugging me for ages and i finally finally wrote it. comment what you think of this prologue
> 
> i feel like the fandom always forgets how smart gwen is. she literally says peter is second best to her in TASM. so here i am playing up all of their genius-ness. i love them. 
> 
> also, mj is zendaya, harry is dane dehaan, gwen is emma stone, ned is jacob batalon, and peter is a sort of mix between andrew and tom. idk man.
> 
> also i know ward is hydra but like. no. idk maybe ill use that as a plot device later but for now hes good okay good
> 
> hopefully ill have the first proper chapter up soon. hopefully itll be longer than this one too!
> 
> take care of yourselves.


End file.
